


Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

by r2metoo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Slow Build, Soul Bond, The Family Business, Wild Hunt, hunting things, saving people, supernatural awakening
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2017-12-29 01:57:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 55,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r2metoo/pseuds/r2metoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is just a normal guy until his best friend's girlfriend reveals herself as a Fairy and gifts Castiel with Sight. Now he is thrown into the world of the Supernatural, discovering that all around him there are creatures he never knew of. An ad in the newspaper by a mysterious D.W. sounds promising, so Castiel calls and gets so much more than he asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

DIRTY DEEDS: DONE DIRT CHEAP  
No job too small or too bizarre  
Call D.W.785-292-9497

Castiel stared at the ad, three lines that a week ago would have meant nothing to him, but that now seemed to have some sort of deeper connotation. No job too small or too bizarre.

Bizarre.

That word once had only one meaning for him, but now he knew it held a wealth of context and subtext that could mean this D.W. was anything from a human wizard to a fairy or maybe even a vampire. The worst part was that he needed the help of someone who specialized in bizarre and paranormal.

Resigned, he called the number and spoke to a very perky woman briefly about what his predicament was, was assured that “He” (names, he had learned, were rarely used) would be able to help, and that “He” would be able to see Castiel (who was also very careful to not give out his name) on Thursday. It was two days away, but Castiel knew he could not object. He was at the mercy of this D.W., and they probably knew it.

Castiel hung up his phone and buried his head in his hands for just a moment, making his already messy hair whorl and curl even more out of control. He didn’t mind, though. Charlie had always told him it was a good look, sure to make boxers drop from miles away.

Charlie…

Just thinking about her made his chest tighten even more. It had been thirty six hours since he had last seen the goofy smile that she hated because of her overbite, but that just about everyone else loved because it was beautiful and bright and sincere, always making it to her eyes no matter what. It was probably what had drawn HER to Charlie in the first place. Gilda. If that really was her name. It was the only name he had, the only thing he had to go by.

He lifted his head from his hands and started looking around his apartment, noticing all the small things various friends had left there over the years. A little cocktail umbrella that Balthazar had worn in a ponytail on top of his head for a night until he had gotten so drunk he passed out. A pen that actually had Michael’s name engraved on it (who did that sort of stuff?). A trench coat that Rafael had spilled red wine on and tried to throw away, but that Castiel had rescued. A barrette that still had dark red hair clinging to it sitting on his sofa, receipts for Thai tea and macaroons, a Lego Severus Snape that used to dangle on Charlie’s keychain but snapped off. There was crap all over his house that his friends had left there. Castiel let out a breath. Maybe Gilda had left similar things at Charlie’s apartment?

He stood so quickly that his kitchen chair toppled and grabbed the key to Charlie’s apartment off of the little hook near his door. He didn’t even bother with closing and locking the door to his own apartment, he just needed to get into hers. He opened the door and stepped into Charlie’s incredibly neat pad. The tenth floor of their building was all studio apartments with just one or two inhabitants each, one of the reasons they all knew each other so well. Charlie’s sitting area was full of a comfortable, squishy couch, a laptop (proof that she was really gone the way she said she was; Charlie would never leave her laptop behind), a huge TV, and a collection of DVD’s and BluRays that were all science fiction and fantasy. There were books tucked away here and there into bookcases, between cushions, mixed in with software. Some with markers, some without. All were dog eared and soft and well loved. 

Castiel picked up her copy of “The Hobbit” with wonder and sadness, unable to understand how Charlie could have left this one behind. It wasn’t like her. And no one would listen to him.

“Castiel? What are you doing in here?”

He looked up to see Rafael in his doorway, beautiful dark skin set off perfectly by a stark white shirt and charcoal grey suit.

“I’m, um…” he looked around lamely. “I’m just going to water Charlie’s plants.”

Rafael narrowed her eyes slightly in suspicion but said nothing. With nothing left to do, Castiel moved slowly to the kitchenette where there was a fern on the windowsill that indeed looked a little worse for wear. At least it sounded plausible.

“Looks like you’re a little late there,” Rafael said kindly. “I purchased some fresh ravioli from the Italian deli down the street. Would you care to join me for dinner?”

Castiel gulped guiltily for the lie he was about to tell. “I…have plans tonight,” he murmured. “But it sounds delicious.” He managed a bright smile. “Tell me how it turns out, hm?”

Rafael nodded. “Of course. Have a nice evening.”

Castiel waved to her as he left and let out an exasperated breath and turned off the sink, setting the fern back in its place. Above Charlie’s table was a mixed media work of ballerinas in various poses with the Killers quote “Are We Humans Or Are We Dancers?” printed in bright green script. Castiel had printed it for her after she had decoupaged pictures and sketches to the long, tall board. It had been a fun day, a pleasant memory. It made Castiel feel sad and alone. He had to find Charlie. He had to find where Gilda had taken her. Hopefully this D.W. would have answers.

He went back to his main purpose, which was to try and find something of Gilda’s. He had heard that wizards could enact a spell when they had a personal article from someone in order to find them. He had something of Charlie’s already, even some of her hair, but if he could find something of Gilda’s, then he felt confident he could find his friend once more.

He shuddered remembering Gilda the last time he had seen her. She had touched his cheek and said, “I command you to See,” and then left with Charlie. That was three days ago, and Castiel was going insane. He “Saw” all right. Ears, tails, shining red eyes that once used to be blue or brown, fanged teeth that had once been normal.

His mother had once told him a tale about a woman graced with “Fairy Sight.” At the time, Castiel would have given anything to be able to see fairies. Now he’d give anything to never see them again.

And it wasn’t just the people, either. Places were suddenly different. Buildings he’d seen but never really looked at were springing up all over the city and he suddenly started wondering if he was going to find Platform 9 ¾ tomorrow when he went to catch his train to work.

Castiel went from the kitchen through the living area to the sleeping partition. The apartments were all one large room, but sectioned off by flooring. The kitchen was a block of tile, the living room a warm hardwood, and the bedroom was carpeted. The bathroom was the only real “room” with a door and its own space. He poked his head in and found nothing. In Charlie’s left brush there were only red hairs and none of Gilda’s soft brown curls. The rest of the apartment was similarly devoid of anything possibly belonging to the being. The fairy. Castiel was working hard to wrap his mind around that. Fairy. Gilda wasn’t human. The thought made him stagger.

Three days he’d been dealing with “Fairy Sight,” and three day’s he’d been ignoring what it meant. Now it floored him. Absolutely floored him. Quite literally, too, because he found himself sitting on Charlie’s hardwood floor, back to the back of her sofa, breathing through a panic attack.

The people with the pointed teeth and red eyes and halos and all sorts of oddities weren’t human. They were supernatural.

Laughter bubbled up in his throat, choking him, making him shake and choke and feel a million things he’d never wanted to feel.

They were real. It was all real.

}O{

Castiel somehow managed to get himself to bed that night, though he never really remembered what exactly happened. The next morning, he awoke feeling hungover though he hadn’t drank any alcohol in weeks, and his body ached as though he had a horrible flu. There was a tightness in his throat and his spine was all compressed as though he had slept wrong, which he probably had. He stretched and then dressed and got ready for his day. 

He managed to get through his day somehow, but his mind kept replaying the last several days, all of the information he’d learned, how it all led him here, making appointments with unknown beings and seeing all sorts of things he shouldn’t be seeing.

His assistant, for one thing, was not human. Neither was Rafael. He hadn’t been sure last night, but when he got to work that morning and saw Samandriel, he realized that the little one he called Alfie and Rafael were the same thing. They glowed somehow, a halo of light around their heads, and their eyes were like fire, and something protruded from their backs. He couldn’t see exactly what, it was shadowed, but it was there.

When Castiel left work that night, he went wandering around the streets instead of going home. He didn’t want to see Rafael again, or any of his other friends, not knowing what they might be.

There was a building standing alone in an abandoned lot, or that was what it might have looked like when Castiel was still normal. Now he Saw that it was a bar of some sort. Curious, he went inside and found a nearly empty diner with a large horseshoe-shaped bar in the center and a beautiful brunette wiping down glasses until they shined. She might have looked normal if it weren’t for the cat ears protruding from the top of her head and the cat-like green eyes she sported. What might look like freckles to a normal person were clearly whiskers.

“Hi, honey,” she smiled, showing straight front teeth with long, pointed eye teeth. “You’re a little early.” She looked him up and down. “Rough day? I can see it on you. We don’t get many of your kind in here…” she stopped talking and gulped. “Well? What’ll it be? I’ve got lots on tap, or I’ve got Top Shelf if you’d rather have something with a little kick.”

Castiel sat at the bar in front of her. “Uh…Blue Moon?”

She smiled. “Sure thing, sweetheart. I’m Ellen, by the way.”

“Um…C-Cas. I’m Cas.” It wasn’t exactly his name, but it was a nickname.

Ellen winked. “It’s okay. You know we can’t do anything to you. But I’ll call you Cas. Wanna talk about it?”

Castiel canted his head to the side and regarded her. What did she mean she couldn’t do anything to him if she knew his True Name? “I, uh…not really. I just…I was hoping for some answers, I guess.”

Ellen went back to her glasses, as if sensing that her working would help him relax around her. “We all want answers, hon. I’m afraid I don’t have any. But I do have the best burger and fries you’ll ever try, if you’d like to give it a whirl. And I’ve got blueberry, boysenberry, and apple pie for dessert. You can have one of each, of course, lord knows there are those who’ll do that, but if you only choose one, I’d take the boysenberry. My daughter picked the berries herself this morning.”

Castiel nodded, grateful. “I’d like that, thank you. Can you put cheddar on the burger?”

Ellen winked. “Sure thing, hon. Ice cream on the pie?”

Castiel smiled. “Of course.”

Ellen smiled back and used her computer to send his order to the kitchen. A few minutes later, a young woman with blonde hair and blonde cat ears came out of the double kitchen doors with a plated burger and fries. Her brown eyes were wide as she took Castiel in, looking him over the same way Ellen had.

“Wow,” she breathed.

“That’s enough, Jo,” Ellen said, jerking her head back in the direction of the kitchen. “Sam’ll be here soon, and let Ash know it should be a busy night. I just got a text from Pam.”

Jo nodded and went to do what Ellen told her.

“Is she your daughter?”

Ellen nodded. “My one and only.” Ellen went back to her glasses that were now so spotless they cast rainbows. “So, why haven’t I seen you here before? You new in town?”

“No,” Castiel admitted. “I’ve lived here since college.”

Ellen raised an eyebrow and was about to say something when the door opened and a giant stepped in. “Hey, Ellen, Bobby and Rufus said they’ll be in later,” it said as it hopped the counter in one swift movement and landed on the other side.

“Thanks, Sam. Sam, this is Cas. He’s never been in before.”

Castiel got a good look at the giant. He looked human enough, nothing hitting Castiel’s senses. Just a very large human being with shaggy brown hair and eyes that seemed to swarm with warm color. They were currently half blue and half brown, but the brown seemed to be shifting to a violet color.

“Hiya, Cas,” Sam said kindly. “Can I top you off or get you something else?”

“Ah, a glass of water would be nice.”

Sam nodded and took a glass, flipped it in his hand, threw ice into it, and sprayed water inside, all very theatric and interesting. “Lemon?” At Castiel’s nod, Sam threw lemon over his shoulder and into the glass, setting it before Castiel with a wink. “That’s special for you. Don’t get many of your kind in here.”

Castiel nodded, having already heard that from Ellen. He supposed most humans just didn’t see the bar/diner for what it was.

He finished his burger as the bar slowly filled up. Couples, groups, singles, all of varying degrees of weird. One of them, a giant of a man, even larger than Sam and twice as broad with thick red hair that fell in braids and loose over his shoulders, came to sit next to Castiel.

“Mead, my good man!” the giant insisted, a slight accent to his voice.

“Of course,” Sam said, pouring thick yellow liquid into a wooden bowl.

The red haired man turned to Castiel, regarding him intently. “Hu,” he hummed. “Don’t see many of yer kind here.”

Castiel felt like rolling his eyes. Okay, so he was a human in a monster bar, but that should be okay, shouldn’t it? He had spent four days finding monsters all over his life.

“Be nice, Thor,” Sam warned, setting a plate of meat in front of the hulking—Castiel started with the realization—god. Thor. God of thunder.

“I mean no disrespect, Cousin,” Thor said kindly to Sam, then clapped Castiel on the back, making him wince. “Bring another for my friend to show my goodwill.”

Sam winked at Castiel as he set a mug of beer down, taking Castiel’s empty mug away. The bartender’s eyes were now blue and green. He couldn’t help but wonder what it might mean.

“You ready for your pie yet, Cas?” Sam asked.

Castiel had forgotten about dessert, too intent on everything around him. “Uh…sure, thank you, Sam.”

“Ah, here is my cousin Loki,” Thor boomed, throwing a giant meaty arm around a diminutive golden-red-haired man.

“Hey, Thor, how’s it hanging.” Loki looked at Castiel and his eyes grew wide. “Who’s your friend, Cuz?”

Thor waved a careless hand at Castiel. “This is an Angel, Cousin.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Cas,” he said simply, not sure if he should put out his hand or not.

“Cas,” Loki repeated, his amber eyes narrowed on Castiel.

“Um…a pleasure to meet you, Loki,” Castiel murmured as Jo brought his pie. He nodded to her appreciatively.

“Share your sweets with my cousin and he will show you true hospitality,” Thor boomed.

Castiel considered this, then held out the fork to the small god. He let out his breath in relief when Loki took the fork and dug in a large bite of pie and ice cream. 

“I’ll see you around, Cas,” Loki said, walking away. As he moved, Castiel realized that the trickster god also had those dark shadows over his back, and wondered what they might mean.

Sam brought Castiel his bill and inclined his head to a group of males in a corner table with pointed dog ears and tails. “Look, you’re safe here, Cas, but those guys might try to eat you alive. Might be best if you paid up and got out soon, kay?”

Both Thor and Castiel looked over at the group, who were alternately eyeing Castiel every now and then while they talked quietly to each other.

“Worry not, little friend. I shall see you out to safety,” Thor proclaimed as quietly as he seemed capable of. Only those at the actual bar could hear him, and some of them smiled indulgently at the large god of thunder. Others gave Castiel a little wink.

“Thank you, Thor.” In gratitude, he offered the last of his pie to the half-giant. He had a lot more research to do at home that night, and his trip to this bar had helped him with that. For that he was grateful. And tomorrow, he’d meet with this D.W. to try and get his friend Charlie back. And maybe he could get rid of Sight so he wouldn’t have to see this stuff anymore.

}O{

Thor walked Castiel to his car at the office parking lot and they bid each other goodbye. Castiel, as usual, had a sinking feeling that someone else was in the car with him and had to force himself to look in the rearview mirror to assure himself that he was alone.

Tawny eyes stared back at him, fierce and angry.

Castiel screeched like a little girl.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet DW. Guess who?

Loki forced himself into the front seat of Castiel’s car. He had no weapons that Castiel could see, and was quite small, and yet Castiel couldn’t bring himself to start fighting the god. Mostly because he was a god.

“Who sent you here?” Loki demanded. “Michael? Lucifer?”

“Wh-what?” Castiel gaped ineloquently. “Who? What are you talking about?” Surely he couldn’t mean his friends, Mike and Lu?

“Did they send you after me?”

The god was angry, his face taut, making his sharp cheekbones stand out even more. “Loki, I swear to you, I don’t know what you’re talking about. No one has sent me after anyone.” 

“Then what were you doing at The Roadhouse tonight?”

This was ridiculous. “I just went there! It’s not a crime or a human to go to…to…one of your places.”

Loki sank back against the door and crossed his arms. Castiel sighed.

“Okay, three days ago, my best friend was kidnapped by her girlfriend who turned out to be a Fairy. The Fairy cursed me with Fairy Sight and ever since then, I’ve been going nuts. I saw The Roadhouse and decided to go in because I thought I might get some answers. Okay?”

The god relaxed just a bit. “Someone cursed you to See?”

“Yes!” Castiel insisted. “Yes, someone cursed me! Do you know how to remove the curse?”

Loki looked at him a little sadly. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Cas.”

“No, what’s your real name?”

“Castiel.” He figured it was stupid to try and hide it now.

“Castiel. The angel of Thursday. No wonder Thor liked you so much.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. He knew what his name meant, but he hadn’t thought much about it. Loki’s parallel, however, gave him pause. It was sort of funny in an ironic “my life is ending just kill me” sort of way. Thor. Thor’s Day. Thursday. His appointment with D.W. was on Thursday. Tomorrow was Thursday.

“Well, Castiel, your life is about to get a whole lot more interesting,” Loki declared. “I’m sorry, but the curse can’t be removed. What you’re going through is called Awakening, and it can’t be undone. Not for you.”

Loki started to get out of the car, but Castiel stopped him. “Wait! Can’t you tell me…anything?”

Loki sighed. “Sorry, kiddo. This is where we part. Your friend is fine. Fairies are generous mates, she’ll want for nothing.” Loki paused as he stood outside the open passenger door. “Beware of Hunters, too. Some of them, like Sam and his family, are okay. But the ones like the guys in the corner of the bar…be careful. They’ll try to bind you.”

“Bind me?” But Loki was already gone.

His brain was full when he got home, only to run into Mike as he got off the elevator. To his shock, Mike also had a halo of light and something dark at his back.

“Castiel,” Michael said. “You look…a little harried. Are you well?”

Castiel swallowed his building panic. “I’m just a little off, Michael. I think I’d better go to bed.”

Michael put his hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “That sounds like a good plan. Sleep well.”

Castiel practically ran to his apartment and stripped, then buried himself under his blankets. He just wanted tomorrow to come. His hope was all resting on D.W. to help him.

}O{

The office was a tiny little hole in the wall, though neat and organized. The walls were a basic white, the carpet a blue-grey low pile. It smelled like coffee and bubblegum, and the woman sitting behind the welcome desk was a sprite. She had to be a sprite.

“Hi there! Are you the two o’clock?”

“Y-yes,” Castiel stammered, eyes on the four iridescent wings lifting from her back like a dragonfly’s.

“I’m Becky,” the sprite said. “I’ll just let the boss know you’re here.”

Castiel sat down in one of the chairs by the wall because it seemed expected of him, waiting for whoever this D.W. was. He looked at the magazines on the low, square table in front of him, surprised at the names. Supernatural Life, Monster Week, Hunter Times, and of course a copy of Maxim’s Hot 100. That seemed to be a ubiquity in every office.

“He’ll see you now!” Becky chirped happily, indicating the door behind her.

Castiel stood, smoothed his coat, and walked through the door.

Sandy hair, carefully arranged in spikes. Green eyes swirled with amber, framed by brown lashes, large and liquid. Cheekbones so high they practically held up the ceiling. Clothes clearly bought from the Army/Navy surplus store. Broad shoulders that tapered into a narrow waist. Long legs, slightly bowed. Thick boots. Castiel was pretty sure he was staring at the textbook definition of Alpha Male.

Said Alpha Male was currently balking a little at Castiel.

“Um…hi?” 

Castiel did a double take. Men like this didn’t usually seem unsure of themselves. “Hello,” Castiel responded. “Are you D.W.?”

“I am,” D.W. responded. “But you can call me Dean.” He indicated the chair in front of his desk and Castiel sat in it. “Um, no offense, but…why do you need my help?”

Castiel sighed. He relayed his story about Charlie and Fairy Sight. “So, I just need to find my friend and get this curse lifted.”

“Okay,” Dean breathed. “But…why do you need my help? I mean, you’re…” he held out his hands. “You’re you. Can’t you just mojo your way into the Fairy Realm and take your friend back?”

Castiel squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the side. Charlie always said he looked like a bird when he did that. “How would I be able to “mojo” my way anywhere? I’m just a human with Fairy Sight.”

“Huh,” Dean said, holding his plump lower lip between his thumb and forefinger as his elbow rested on the desk. “So…you’re a human…”

“Obviously.”

Dean stared at him the same way Gabriel had, as though he felt sorry for him. “I can’t help you find your friend,” he said. “But it’s okay. She’ll be back. You’ll see her again.”

Castiel perked up at this. “I will?”

“Of course. Fairies live in this Realm too. Didn’t she leave all her stuff?”

Castiel suddenly felt a little foolish. “Well, yes, she did. I just…the letter she left me made me think I wouldn’t see her for a while.”

“Time in the Fairy Realm moves differently than our time. It will seem to her that months or years had passed, but in our world, only a week or two. Her girlfriend will be feeding her Ambrosia and Morning Dew to keep her young. Your friend is still mortal, but she’ll be able to live for centuries, maybe even a thousand years as a Fairy’s mate.”

“But…but…she just left…” Castiel gulped. “Look, I don’t make friends easily,” his voice cracked, “and she was like a sister to me. I can’t just leave her.”

Dean stood up from his desk and came over to Castiel, kneeling down in front of him. Castiel thought for a moment that the man might give him a pep talk or say something kind. He placed his hand on Castiel’s shoulder and looked deeply into his eyes, and Castiel even started to hope that the man might kiss him.

“Hey, snap out of it!” He said with a shake to Castiel’s shoulder. “You’re really going to tell me that you’re going to stand between your best friend and the chance of eternal beauty and happiness with a fairy mate? Those guys are amazing from what I’ve heard. Centuries, man. Centuries of great Fairy sex. Don’t be a selfish dick.”

Castiel gaped at Dean. “W-well…well, if it’s so good, then why don’t you try to get yourself a fairy girlfriend?” he shot back a little petulantly.

Dean chuckled. “For one thing, I’m a Hunter. We don’t do Fairies, and Fairies don’t do us. For another, it wouldn’t be a girlfriend, smartass.”

Castiel blushed and averted his eyes. “I just miss her, is all.”

Dean gave him a smile. “I know. I’m sure you do. But I mean it when I say you’ll see her again. Now, I can’t help you find your friend, but I can help you. You need me.”

Castiel turned back to Dean, suspicion etched all over his face. “What can you help me with?”

“I can help you with your Awakening. I’ll be your…your guide as you discover the ins and outs of living with Fairy Sight.”

“Why would you want to help me?”

Dean shrugged. “It’s a job, right? No job too bizarre. That’s what I promise.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “How much?”

Dean leaned back onto his desk, stroking his chin. “Let’s see…it’s probably going to be several weeks. You won’t need me all the time, mostly evenings and weekends. I’ll take other jobs, too, you know. Just to be clear. You might want to help me with some to further your Awakening…”

Castiel kept quiet and let Dean talk to himself.

“Okay, five hundred, you can pay me in installments, plus your full name. That will come with access to all of my libraries, my time, my personal phone, my friends, and my home, for as long as it takes.”

“You want my full name?” Castiel felt panic. His research, while limited, said that giving out one’s full name was akin to giving away one’s soul.

“Hey, I’m not going to sell it to anyone, it’s just for my own use. In time, I’ll let you know exactly what I did with it. I won’t give it away or speak it out loud. But I need it.”

Castiel squinted. “O-okay. Okay. I’ll…I’ll do it.”

Dean smiled and held out his hand. “Dean Henry Winchester, at your service.”

Castiel took his hand. “Castiel James Novak. Nice to meet you.”

Dean opened his arms. “So, what do you want to know?”

}O{

An Angel. An angel walked into his life. An honest to god Angel. And the weirdest part was that he didn’t know what he was yet. He was beautiful, that was for sure. Pale skin, eyes so blue they could put cobalt to shame, and hair that seemed perfect for grabbing onto. And his lips…good god, his lips were made for sin.

Dean picked up his phone and called Sammy. “Hey, I need a full work-up on a Castiel James Novak, born in Pontiac Illinois, November ninth, nineteen-seventy-four. He’s an Angel, Sammy. A goddamned Angel. Call me back.”

Dean had never cared much about Angels. He knew that a few members of the Wild Hunt had taken them for mates, but he never figured himself for that. He loved his freedom, loved being able to pick up and go when he wanted, to follow a lead on a monster for weeks on end without needing to check in on anyone (though he always checked in on Sammy), but when faced with an unattached, Awakening Angel, he found himself intrigued. What if this was his Mate? What if this was The One his mother had always told him about?

“What is a Hunter?” Castiel had asked.

“Well, it seems that way back in my history, one of my ancestors was descended of Woden, which is the German equivalent of Odin, the leader of the Wild Hunt. We’re not supernatural per se, but we have excellent senses, agility, strength and stamina.”

Castiel had taken that in stoically. “And why would a Hunter be a danger to me?”

Dean’s brow had furrowed. “Who told you that?”

Castiel explained briefly about his encounter with Loki. “He said they would want to…bind me? Is it because I can See?”

Dean had to choose his words carefully. When a being was going through their Awakening, someone coming out and telling them what they were could upset the balance of learning, and they could go mad. He had to introduce Castiel to everything slowly and carefully to avoid that. “Well, in a way it is because of your Sight. You have a Gift now and there are those that will want to exploit it. As Hunters, we can See, but as you’ll learn during your Awakening process, there is a lot that you can do.”

Castiel hadn’t fully accepted Dean’s explanation, that much was clear, but he had accepted most of it.

“Will you accept that there are some things I just can’t tell you right now? You have to experience them for yourself and grow into yourself…there are reasons for that, Cas.”

Castiel had nodded openly then, and Dean had relaxed a bit, glad that Castiel trusted him this little bit.

His phone rang then, pulling him from his memory suffused haze. Figuring it was Sammy, he pressed the “Accept” button and grunted, “Hey, Sammy, whatcha got?”

“D-dean? It’s Cas…Dean…you have to come and help me! It’s Mike, my neighbor! He-he said he smelled a Hunter on me, and that I was his to claim, and now he’s trying to break into my apartment!”

Dean grabbed his car keys. “Your neighbor?”

“Yes, and he’s one of the Supernatural, Dean. I don’t know what he is, but there’s a halo of light around his head, and he has these dark things at his back, like shadows. I think they’re wings, but I can’t fully see them.”

Dean cursed. “They’re wings, Cas. Your friend Mike is an Angel.” And he wanted Castiel for his mate. “Hold on, I’m coming.”

“Why is he doing this now, Dean?”

Dean huffed into the phone. “Because I’m a Hunter, and…well, he’s apparently targeted you as his mate, and he thinks I’ve done the same thing.”

“But he’s my friend, Dean,” Castiel said in a small voice that made him sound like a lost child. “I don’t think of him that way.”

Dean made his way to Castiel’s apartment building, keeping the Angel on the phone the entire time. It took him about ten minutes to get there and get up the elevator. At Castiel’s door, he found a tall, good-looking dark haired angel with hazel eyes being restrained by two blonds and talked to by a female with red hair and large brown eyes.

“He’s still waking up, Michael,” the redhead said calmly. “You know you can’t rush him.”

“He’s mine!” Michael insisted. As Dean approached, Michael turned to him, snarling. “You threaten my mate!”

Dean held his hands up in surrender. “I’m just trying to help him with his Awakening,” he said calmly. “Cas reached out to me. I told him I would help.”

“You,” Michael sneered. “What could he want with you?”

The redhead huffed, “I could think of a few things,” low, but loud enough for them all to hear. The angel with the light blond hair laughed and the strawberry blond gave them both a stern look.

“Michael,” the strawberry blond said kindly, “you know that Castiel has free will. He can choose either you or the Hunter, or he could choose neither. It’s up to him. But I can promise you that he absolutely will not choose you if you continue acting this way.”

That got Michael’s attention.

“Look, I’m not here trying to bind him,” Dean lied, not fooling the four angels who were currently giving him Stink Eye for the blatant fib. “Okay, I’d do it if he wanted to, but…I’m mostly trying to help him out. Do you know he went to The Roadhouse last night by himself? And he’s scared to death of you guys. He doesn’t know what’s happening to him, and I’m a friendly Human face for him. Could you back off and give him a little time?”

They could see the truth of his words, and slowly they all, including Michael, nodded.

“I’m Anna,” the redhead said. “And this is Balthazar and Lucifer.”

Dean nodded to the pale blonde and strawberry blond respectively. “Nice to meet you. Can I talk to Cas now?”

“Be respectful, Hunter,” Michael warned.

Dean rolled his eyes at the angel. “I know, and I already told you that I am only going to do what he wants. But if he wants me, sorry man, I’ll take him.”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “I will win him in the end.”

Dean sighed and knocked on the door. “Cas? It’s me. Let me in.”

The door opened just a crack, and he slipped in, leaving the Angels in the hallway. Inside the apartment, Castiel attacked him, curling against his chest and seeming small and frail to Dean as he held him close, and Dean had to admit that he felt good in his arms.

“You okay, man?”

Castiel nodded against his chest. “I was just so frightened and confused. He’s not human, he could have done anything to me and I couldn’t have stopped him.”

Dean indulged in burying his hand in Castiel’s hair, stroking him lightly. “He wouldn’t have, Cas. He wants you to be his mate. He’d actually take care of you.”

“I don’t want him taking care of me!” Castiel insisted, blushing slightly and not making eye contact.

Dean felt something warm in his chest. “You might change your mind about that later, Castiel. After you’re done with your Awakening, you may view him differently. He’s promised to back off for now so you can continue your education.”

Castiel shook his head again. “No, I’ll never want him. I don’t think of him that way.”

Dean pulled away a little and set Castiel back, his hands on the Angel’s arms. “Try to keep an open mind. Remember I told you that there are things I can’t be honest about right away?” At Castiel’s nod, Dean continued. “Well, this is one of those things. You could find that you like the feathery little bastard sometime in the near future.”

Castiel grinned. “He was a good friend.”

“He still is,” Dean said. “Really, he’s just…feeling a little possessive.”

Castiel narrowed his gaze. “Over you?”

Dean nodded. “Over me. I’m a hunter, remember? My kind likes to bind guys like you.”

Castiel blushed a little as he thought that over. “What would binding do?”

“We’d be married, basically. We’d have a sort of soul connection. We’d be able to read each other, our emotions, whether one was in trouble or not. I hear the sex is amazing, too. You just sort of…know…what your partner wants.”

“Oh.” Castiel frowned. “But, if we’re both human, then how can we bond?”

Dean should have known Castiel was too smart to just accept what he said and not question things. “I am supernatural in a way, and so are you. It’s one of those things that I can’t explain yet, Cas, but your Awakening is a supernatural thing. The reason we can’t reverse the “curse” as you call it is because it’s something that was already changing in you. The Fairy just sped up the process.”

Castiel gaped at him. “I’m a monster?!”

“No!” Dean said quickly, pulling him back to the comfort of his body. “No, you’re not. You’re very special.”

Castiel clung to Dean. “Am I like Charlie? Is that how a Fairy bound her? Maybe it’s something in our blood, like with you?”

Dean grasped at that. “Yeah, maybe. I’m still working on it, Cas, but I promise you we’ll figure it out together.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's Sam, exactly? And what's Castiel?

Sam hung up his phone and started scribbling notes after listening to Dean’s message. Castiel James Novak, so that was who Cas was. An Angel, definitely. The fact that Dean was interested in him was something else entirely. Still, Sam helped his brother when he could, so he grabbed his computer and signed on to his People Finder databases and began to fill out a BS background check request to cover his audit trail. 

Sam was a junior-level lawyer by day and a bartender at night. As a Hunter, he needed only about four hours of sleep so he worked extra jobs to help pay for his younger half-brother Adam’s medical school. Dean had worked hard to put Sam through law school, so Sam figured he’d take the lion’s share of Adam’s expenses. Sam’s day job at the law firm barely covered his and his girlfriend Jess’s living expenses, but it helped Dean’s business when Dean needed the four-one-one on someone. With so many connections in the supernatural realms, Sam always had an excuse for doing a background check, running a vehicle, getting a credit report, or searching the details of a case. 

His bartending job paid for everything else. Thor tipped using red Dwarven gold, and the Fairies threw the stuff around like it was dust. It didn’t hurt that Sam was unusual thanks to a gift from a self-appointed (and somewhat unwelcome) Fairy Godfather who fed him Ambrosia when he was a six-month-old baby. Sam was closer to the god-side of his family and was Gifted with Dreams. Sometimes he would dream about the patrons, and they would give him even more gold if he could tell them something good was going to happen, or warn them about something bad. 

Fate, Sam and his brothers had learned, could always be changed. The patrons at the bar always enjoyed a chance to thwart her if they could. He couldn’t always focus his dreams onto one person or being, but he tried as much as possible if gold was on the line. Jess would help him, talk to him softly as he fell into sleep, whispering the name of the person he needed to get a lock on, but it would only work if it was a True Name. Hopefully Castiel hadn’t lied, not that Sam thought he did. 

There were two hours left in the day before he could go home and tell Jess what was going on and maybe find some more information out from Dean. After that he would head to The Roadhouse for his usual shift. Sam was intrigued by Castiel, however. He wanted to know more about him for himself as much as for Dean. Sam loved his brothers, Dean especially who had helped raise him and Adam when their father left to join the Wild Hunt and would only return sporadically. 

The brothers had promised to never join the Hunt and because of it that decision, they enjoyed a good life in one place, but once a year, the call to the Hunt would come to them and they would see the hunters in the sky, chasing after the impossible White Stag that could never be caught. That was when they would see their father the most. Now that Sam had a life and a career and a girl, his decision to leave the Hunters behind was easier and he didn’t feel the draw as much. The time of year was coming up again, and Sam hoped that Castiel was another anchor for Dean, who had struggled the last two years to turn his back on the call of his blood. 

Their father had them to ground him, but after the death of their mother when they were small children, John Winchester had lost his anchor. The boys had grounded him for a time, but when Dean turned thirteen (Sam had been nine and Adam four), John couldn’t deny the Call any longer. He had left. 

The hits started coming in for Castiel and Sam started organizing all of the information into a folder. The good news was that Sam now wanted to know everything about Castiel, so he had a really good chance of dreaming about him tonight. 

Work was rough because The Hunt was going to start in a few weeks and Hunters were flocking to their town. Sam was keeping an eye open for his dad, but so far John Winchester hadn’t come by. The good news was that when Sam got home, he was able to lay down and fall asleep almost immediately. 

He Dreamed of Castiel, but he could tell it was a portent of things to come. He was also mightily embarrassed because Castiel was in bed on top of Dean. Sam couldn’t tell exactly what was happening due to his angle (and he was thankful for that), but it looked like the Angel was riding Dean, his wings spread out as Dean stroked his fingers through his feathers. 

The wings were things of beauty, as it always was when Angels manifested. They were arched high above his head, fanned out slightly, and the feathers! Jeweled blues in varied shades, dark towards the base and brilliant sapphire at the tip. 

Castiel seemed to sense Sam’s presence, which happened every now and then when Sam scried through dreams, though he didn’t know why, and turned to Sam with cold blue light shining in his eyes. Sam felt scared for several moments as the Angel’s eyes bored into him. Then Cas lifted his hand and something dark hit Sam in the chest, propelling him backwards.

He awoke gasping, holding his chest. 

“Sonofabitch!” he cried out, his hand stroking a sore spot on his chest. Beside him, Jess sat up and turned on the light. 

“What’s wrong, the dream?” she asked, brushing her wild blonde hair away from her face. Her eyes widened as she took him in. “Your chest!” 

Sam looked down and found a handprint fading on his chest, as though someone had slapped him hard. 

“What the hell?” 

Jess touched the stinging skin. “That’s never happened before,” she breathed. 

}O{

Across town, Castiel was in Dean’s guest room having a very different experience. Dean was under him, his erection brushing against Castiel’s slick hole. They were kissing, their tongues sliding together, thrusting into each other’s mouths as Castiel ground himself against Dean’s stomach. He wanted to bind to Dean, to make him his Mate. He felt Dean stroking his back and it felt like magic, the way his fingers carded through his wings, the hot slick of oil stroking itself down his back. 

“You’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” Dean murmured as he spread the oil over Castiel’s back, bringing it down to his opening and stroking inside. 

Castiel gasped. “I want you, Dean…make me yours.”

“Yes,” Dean agreed, reaching around to hold his hard, leaking cock. Castiel lifted himself and sank backwards onto it, moaning at how hot and thick it felt in his virgin ass. 

“Fuck!” he cried, the pleasure too much. 

Dean thrust upwards, hitting a spot in Castiel that he hadn’t even known existed before. They started to move together, their bodies slick with sweat and oil and precum that leaked from Castiel’s dick where it rested against Dean’s stomach. 

“So tight, sweetheart,” Dean moaned. 

Castiel stopped for a moment, making Dean look up at him strangely. The Hunter caressed his cheek in question. Castiel looked over his shoulder, spying the outline of someone very tall and menacing. Whoever they were, they were unwelcome. They did not belong in such a private, intimate moment. Angry, Castiel lifted his hand and sent them away using a thrust of his power, then turned back to Dean and started thrusting hard. Dean met his movements, lifting his hips against Castiel’s, his hands stroking over Castiel’s chest, his sides, his wings…

“Fuck…my wings…that feels so good, baby,” Castiel moaned. “I need to mark you, I need you to be mine.” 

Dean nodded. “Make me yours.” 

Castiel reached out his hand and put it on Dean’s shoulder, sending his essence into the mark. As they climaxed, the area glowed white hot and his mark was put on Dean even as Dean marked him as his own with his semen. They cried out together as Castiel’s orgasm spurted out hotly between them. 

“Fuck!” he shouted as he came awake. 

Castiel looked around the empty room, sweaty and a mess as he had come thanks to his incredibly erotic dream. 

“Wings!” he exclaimed, feeling his back. Nothing was there. But there was…he felt them just as sure as he had felt Dean inside of him. It was so real. It was more than just a dream, so much more. 

But he was alone in his room, human with a normal human body.

“Cas?” Dean was knocking at his door. 

Oh crap. He had his own spunk covering his naked chest, and it was all over Dean’s sheets too. He couldn’t open the door like this. 

“I…I had a dream,” Castiel said, scrambling for something to clean himself off with and something to cover up with. Hopefully not the same something for both issues. 

“You okay? Wanna talk about it?” 

“NO! I mean,” he tried to lighten his tone. “Um, no, not really.” Castiel grabbed a sock and wiped himself off, then pulled on a shirt to hide any further evidence. Next to the shirt were the boxers he had been wearing the day before, so he slipped those on too. Hopefully he’d find a chance to wash the sheets when Dean wasn’t hanging around. 

“Look, I’m sure it was a bad dream, Cas, but it might give you some insight into your Awakening.” 

Castiel opened the door and tried to not look like he had just had a wet dream about the man standing in front of him. “I, uh…I had wings in the dream, Dean.” 

“Wings,” Dean repeated. 

“Do you think I’m having a reaction to the Angels around me? Perhaps they bored their way into my subconscious.” Was he speaking English or gibberish? He wasn’t quite sure. 

Castiel didn’t like the look on Dean’s face. It looked like he was trying to figure out how to lie with finesse. “Cas, I think we need to entertain all possibilities. It could be that you are a supernatural creature with wings.” 

Okay, that was worse because he seemed to not be lying. 

“You think I have wings?” He felt himself start to panic. 

“If you’re dreaming about it, then yes, it’s within the realm of possibility.” 

Castiel bit his lip and looked down at the floor uncertainly. Dean put his hand on his shoulder. The had had the same weight and size as the hand he remembered stroking down him in his dream. That hand had been buried in his wings…

“Hey, Cas…I told you we’re in this together, right?” 

Castiel nodded. “I just know there are things you’re not telling me.” 

“I told you there would be. But we’re going to figure it out. You’re not alone.” 

“I’m going back to bed, Dean. Hopefully I won’t have any more disturbing dreams.” Castiel closed the door on Dean’s face, not sure he wanted to be around the Hunter right now. Half-truths and post phantom coital bliss didn’t tend to be good bedfellows. Then again, post phantom coital bliss wasn’t a thing for most people. It wasn’t normal or natural and he wanted to just forget it all again. 

Castiel stripped off once more and slept between the comforter and the topsheet on the opposite side of the bed that he was sleeping on earlier. 

}O{

Dean was up early and started cooking breakfast for himself and Cas. Luckily, he always cooked way more than was needed because Sam came by and if he didn’t overplan, Dean’s sasquatch younger brother would have gone hungry. 

“Pancakes?” Sam moaned appreciatively as Dean set a huge fluffy stack in front of him. 

“Yeah, I think I’ve even got some fruit in here, but you’ll have to cut and wash it yourself.” 

Sam did just that, straining a handful of strawberries under the tap and then slicing up melon. 

“I bet Castiel will want some.” 

Dean stiffened. “Did you dream that he was here?” 

Sam laughed at the look on Dean’s face. “No, I heard the shower running, and Adam’s at his dorm until tonight. Tell me you didn’t…” 

Dean held up a hand. “I gave him the guest room.” 

Sam plated up some fruit for himself and put the rest on a second plate, then set them down at the table. Castiel’s plate he put across from himself. “I did dream about Cas, though.” 

Dean stalled mid-flip, then followed through. “Oh?” 

Sam lifted his shirt, revealing a fist-sized bruise right in the middle of his chest. 

Dean’s eyes widened. “Wait, Cas did that? In your dream? But how?” 

Sam shrugged and dropped his shirt just as they heard the shower turn off. “Okay, quickly, I’m going to do research on how he might have done this to me, and here is your file on him.” 

Dean nodded and hid the file out of sight so Castiel wouldn’t see it. He’d explain it to him at one point, but he didn’t want the Angel to get the wrong idea right away. 

“Can you tell me about the dream?” 

Sam shook his head, a huge bite of pancakes filling his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, then said with a voice still thick, “I, uh…let’s just say that I kind of deserve this bruise.” 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Was he…I mean…were he and I?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean…” 

“I’m not telling you anything,” Sam said. “I won’t jeopardize the future by telling you about it.” 

Dean smiled. “So we were!” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re a jerk.” 

“And you’re a whiny little bitch,” Dean muttered, flipping three pancakes onto a plate and setting it in the oven for Castiel. “Well, can you at least tell me…” 

“Dean, no, I saw about five seconds, which was five seconds longer than I wanted, and then I got punted out. You have your file, but it’s not anything new. Pretty much the same origin story of every Angel we’ve encountered.” 

Dean brought his plate over and started pouring syrup. “So, kid born to parents who desperately wanted a baby but couldn’t have any, then suddenly…”

“Yeah, Castiel. And they gave him an Angel’s name. Castiel is the Angel of Thursdays. But get this, when he came to the bar the other night? Thor started talking to him. Think it’s a coincidence?” 

Dean shrugged, then shushed Sam as he heard Castiel moving down the stairs. 

“Dean?” 

“In the kitchen. Come meet my brother.” 

Castiel peeked around the corner, his hair a wild mess of wet curls. His blue eyes got huge when he spied Sam. 

“Oh, we know each other,” Sam said, smiling. 

“Yes, we met at the bar,” Castiel said. “Good to see you again.” 

Sam gave his best smile and turned on the innocent brown puppy dog eyes, then indicated the plate of fruit. “I cut you some fruit,” he said. 

“And I put the pancakes in the oven,” Dean jerked his head to the oven. “Knock yourself out, man.” 

Castiel retrieved his pancakes and sat in front of his fruit plate. “I’m thinking of taking a leave of absence from my work,” Castiel said as he buttered his pancakes and applied some of Ellen’s homemade blackberry jelly. 

“Normally I’d say you were running from your problems, but it might be a good idea,” Sam said gently. “Awakenings can be very stressful, and you’ll be dealing with suddenly knowing that the people you work with are not Human like you thought they were.” 

Castiel shuddered and nodded. “Yes, I am already experiencing that. And in my apartment building, many of my friends are…I don’t know what they are.” 

“They’re still your friends, Cas,” Dean pointed out. “They’re still exactly who they always were.” 

“I suppose. But…” he put his fork down. “I don’t know, Dean. It’s just…I don’t know how to deal with it.” 

“No way to go over, man, you have to go through,” Dean said. “Take your leave of absence, but don’t bury your head in the sand. Come on hunts with me. I’ve got a lady with a poltergeist next town over. We could have fun.” 

“Poltergeist?” Sam scoffed. “Sort of throwing him into the deep end there, aren’t you?” 

Dean gave Castiel a wink, which made him blush. “Nah, the deep end would be a wendigo or a rugaru. This is just a simple exorcism. Whaddaya say, Cas?” 

Castiel looked up, his amazing blue eyes big and bright. “I think I’d like that, Dean. As you said, it could be fun.” 

Sam smiled enigmatically, then wiped his mouth off. “Well, I have to get to the office. See you two tonight at The Roadhouse?” 

“If we can finish off the exorcism,” Dean answered. 

“I have faith in you, big brother,” Sam said, pulling on his jacket. “Catch you later, Cas. Stay safe, okay?” 

Castiel waved Sam off, and Dean gave his brother a big smile as the overgrown moose left through the kitchen door. 

“Well, Cas, I think you’re going to have a good time today,” Dean grinned. 

Castiel looked a little nervous. “I hope so.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Food porn. That's the only way I know to describe it.

According to Jewish religious texts, there are ten different species of Angels in the Angelic Hierarchy while in Christian texts, there are nine orders belonging to three different “spheres.” As of this writing, there have been only three that I have seen myself: Seraphim, Cherubim, and Archangelum. 

In Judeo-Christian religious texts, Angels are fearsome creatures with many different pairs of wings, animal-like qualities, and sometimes eyes on every available surface. The Angels I have encountered appear in Human form, and when wings are manifested, only one pair are shown. I do not doubt that there are much more to Angels than is shown to me, a mere Man of Letters, though one has taken me into his confidence and for the purposes of this narrative, I shall reveal all that he has told me on the matter. 

He says he is a Seraph, and that his Order is amongst the fiercest in Heaven. I have seen him fight and cannot fault him for lying or false bravado. He is beautiful to behold, as they all are, with otherworldly eyes and deplorable fashion sense. His idea of the proper folding of a cravat is so far from the mode that I fear I will not be able to bring him into the first circles of society without employing a full-time valet for him. His clothing also appears several sizes too large for his frame and any mention of a proper tailor has been frowned down and even met with outright petulance. I wonder if the True Form he spoke to me of extends beyond the confines of his skin in the Supernatural realm rendering close-fitting clothing uncomfortable, or if he is merely eccentric. His disdain for proper headwear points towards the latter. 

I am told by my Muriel that there are seven Archangels to be born into the world, Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, Raphiel, Azrael, Sariel, and Raziel and has said that he feels Gabriel is already among us. 

Muriel said that he was born of human parents who were without children. He claims to have felt their pain in barrenness and entered his Essence into his mother’s body and used her to create a Vessel for himself. He says that all Angels have been born this way and experience their Awakening, which remembers them to their true form and purpose.   
Here I write in a different pen, for it is many decades since my original writing, and I now clarify that after having met many other Angels, still within the three species of Archangel, Seraph and Cherub, that they all encompass the same creation story of finding barren parents and blessing them with a child. In every case, the Angel was called after his or her Angelic name by the parents, which leads me to wonder if Angels possess some form of mental telepathy with the Humans they choose to bond with. The Angels I have met so far are as follows:   
Ariel (S)  
Belteshezar/Balthazar (S)  
Mishael/Michael (A)  
Lucifer (A)(possibly “The Devil” if such a thing indeed exists)  
Eremiel (C)  
Daniel (S)  
Haniel (C)  
Barachiel (S)  
Muriel (S)(the one with which I have bonded)  
Many of these Angels have aligned themselves with Humans (though not the Archangels), particularly such Humans as participate in The Wild Hunt and call themselves Hunters (on these creatures, which are not quite Human and not quite Supernatural, I have dedicated its own entry in my Journal), not excepting my own Muriel, of course, for he has been of true Help and Companionship to me in my times of need and distress. Of the Bond itself I may write its own entry, for it is a profound and metaphysical entity in its own right and deserves such distinction, but suffice to say that those with an Angel companion are truly lucky indeed and enjoy a love that is beyond description. 

Castiel set the ledger down and sighed heavily, rubbing his fingers over his tired eyes.

“You okay there, Cas?” Dean asked.

They had spent a weary morning putting Castiel’s business to rights. First he went to work to fill out leave of absence forms, then went back to his apartment building, which was thankfully nearly empty due to it being a workday and everyone being gone, and now they were on their way to Dean’s “Hunt.” Castiel was supposed to be reading an account of Dean’s great-great-great-grandfather’s in defeating a Poltergeist, but had gotten sidetracked by sketches of wings and Herschel Winchester’s detailed description of being bonded to an Angel.

“I am fine, Dean. Thank you for asking.”

Dean snorted. “You sound awfully proper there, man. Come on, talk to me. What’s eating you?”

“I had wings last night, and I’m named after an Angel. I see women with ears on their heads like cats and men with wolf tails and I met not just one, but two gods the other night. My neighbor is probably Michael the Archangel, and another is probably Lucifer the devil…I don’t know what’s going on, Dean. But all considered, I’m fine. I’m…happy to be here. With you.”

“Wow, shit,” Dean said with a laugh. “Dude, say stuff like that and I’m gonna have to kiss you.”

Castiel felt himself flush and looked out the window to hide his confusion. He wanted to say, “I’d like that very much, Dean.” Instead, he said, “Reading in a car makes me feel ill. Just tell me about the Poltergeist.”

Dean launched into an explanation about vindictive spirits versus shadows of those that had lived, how to find them and sever ties to the world, sending the spirit on its way. Castiel half-listened, but mostly dwelled on the idea that he might be an Angel. It seemed rather impossible, after all, he was a gay man, though admittedly still technically a virgin, which was something he really didn’t want to discuss.

Of course it seemed that Michael that Archangel was probably also gay, so perhaps that had little bearing on the matter?

“Okay, I lost you again. What are you thinking about?”

Castiel turned to Dean, but as he did, his vision went cloudy and he was transported somewhere else. 

“Be careful, Castiel,” a voice said to his right. 

Castiel turned to where he was sure the passenger door of Dean’s Impala was, but instead, he was outside in some desolate place near a body of water. He looked down and saw a sort of odd fish by his foot.

“We have big plans for that fish,” the voice said. 

There was something familiar about the voice, not too incredibly familiar, but he’d heard it before. 

“It’s just a fish,” he said. 

“Not just a fish…the whole of creation rests on this one creature.” 

Castiel turned his eyes back to the fish, which was nearly shapeless and blobby. It had no scales and was fleshy like a shark or an eel, but no shark or eel he’d ever seen. 

“Nothing is ever as it seems,” the voice warned, and then Castiel was back in the impala, Dean’s hands on his face. He had apparently pulled over to the side of the road. 

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean said soothingly. “It’s okay, it’s a memory from your past life.” 

“No,” Castiel gasped. “No, it couldn’t be…” 

“Why not?” Dean’s voice wasn’t mocking or condescending. He actually sounded mildly curious. “You met two gods the other day, but you draw the line at past lives?” 

“Dean, I just saw the beginning of Time.” At Dean’s shrug, Castiel felt himself get a little upset. “Could you at least try to pretend that what I just said is surprising in some way? For me?” He took a deep breath and got a good head of steam. “I mean, I’m sure for you that this is just every day, I’m sure you’ve had fifteen past lives, but this is my first. I have never experienced this before, and I just saw the fucking beginning of time. Can you just tell me that you find that incredible and maybe a bit impossible?” 

Dean laughed. He actually laughed. Slapping the steering wheel, eyes crinkled, belly laughing like an asshole. 

“You know what? This was a bad idea. Just let me out,” Castiel grumbled. “Seriously, Dean.” 

Dean shook his head and tried to stop laughing. “Oh, man, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I swear I’m not.”

“Really? Because someone who looks like you is certainly sitting next to me, laughing, and it seems as though he’s laughing at me.” 

“You know, you’ve got this whole “Holy Tax Accountant” thing going on with your suit and your trench, but when you’re pushed against a wall, you just turn feisty,” Dean mused.

 

Castiel coughed to cover the fact that he desperately wanted Dean to push him against a wall and find out just how feisty he could get. Unbidden, his dream came back to him and he once again felt that hot, throbbing heat filling him to fullness…

 

“You really make me wish I were like Sam, Cas,” Dean murmured. “Your eyes are so far away, and I’d give a pound of Dwarven gold to know what you’re thinking.”

 

Castiel snapped his eyes up. “Sam can read minds? Is that why his eyes change?” He started to panic. Did Sam know about his dream? Had he told Dean? Castiel felt a sudden need to smite Sam.

 

Smite Sam? Really?

 

“He can see into the future sometimes. He has this fairy godfather, Azazel, who flits in and out now and then, which is why we know so much about fairies. But Sam can’t read minds.”

 

Castiel felt himself literally deflate against the seat.

 

Castiel felt himself literally deflate against the seat. “So he can’t read minds?”

 

Dean shrugged. “No, he just catches glimpses sometimes. The past, the future, the present. Because of him we rescued a bunch of kids from a changeling once, but he has to go to sleep to see it.”

 

Castiel remembered the large figure lurking in his dream. “Does he ever see other people’s dreams?” he asked sharply. Dean’s frightened look said it all. “Dean, did he come to me in a dream last night?” Castiel started to sweat. Had Sam seen that?

Dean started up the car again and pulled back onto the road. “Uh…He said he saw you in a dream, but he was only there for five seconds. Does that sound right?” 

 

Castiel looked down at his hand. He had somehow pulsed power through it the night before in a dream and expelled Sam from it. “Yes. I saw someone, and I think I attacked them, but I’m still not sure how I did it.” 

 

“Well, a dream’s a dream, man. Strange stuff happens in dreams.” 

 

“But he was really there, right?” 

 

Dean pulled up to a house and parked the car. “Look, here’s the thing. About five years ago, a friend of ours, Gordon Walker, went through an Awakening. He was a vampire. We all knew he was a vampire, and we told him he was. It was something we just…took for granted, I guess. Well, he went crazy. I’m not just talking that he started screaming and ranting, I’m talking he went homicidal. He tried to kill Sam because he said Sam had demon blood in him. He managed to actually kill his sister and I ended up killing him. It was terrible. Horrible. I never want to go through that again, so if I’m holding back from you or not reacting like you want me to to something you say, it’s because I don’t know how much or how little to give you.”

 

Castiel mulled this over. “Well, I’m sorry your friend went crazy like that. I’m sure it must have been hard, especially since you had to kill him.”

 

Dean nodded. “It was.”

 

“But that doesn’t mean it will happen to me. Maybe he was…sorry, but…unstable before all that happened?”

 

“I guess he was,” Dean agreed. “But I think we pushed him over the edge by expecting him to just be what we thought he was without waiting for the Awakening to take hold. You see, you’re remembering things from your past life, you’re remembering who you are, and soon you’re going to remember you have powers. But if it all happens at once, I would think that would be a strain on anyone.”

 

Castiel mulled this over. “Am I an Angel, Dean?”

 

Dean nodded. “I think you are.”

 

“So I truly saw the beginning of Time itself.”

 

Dean just nodded again.

 

Castiel sighed. “You’re right. It does make me want to go crazy. Going crazy would…would make more sense. If I were crazy, then none of this would be real.”

 

Dean reached over and patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, Cas. It’s going to be okay.”

 

“You keep saying that,” Castiel pointed out. “What if it’s not?” 

 

}O{

 

Ellen placed two large, frosted mugs of beer in front of Dean and Castiel, then leaned against the table. “You two gonna tell me what’s going on?”

 

Dean recognized that this wasn’t a request; it was an order.

 

“I took Cas to a Poltergeist exorcism today,” he said lamely. At Ellen’s raised eyebrow, Dean took a deep drink of his beer and dove in. “Ellen, Castiel is going through his Awakening.”

 

Ellen’s eyes widened a bit, and she set a comforting hand on the Angel’s shoulder. “Oh, so that’s why you were so confused the other night! I should have—oh, Cas!” Castiel turned his huge blue eyes up to Ellen, making her rub her hand over his shoulders and back at his hound dog expresion. Ellen then pulled up a chair. “Okay, start at the beginning.”

 

Castiel told his story once more, about Charlie and Gilda, how he stumbled upon The Roadhouse, and about Dean and his offer of help. “I had a dream where I had wings, so we believe I may be an Angel. Plus, I am named after an Angel and have a similar birth story to other Angels.” He was huddled in his chair, his hands tucked up his sleeves, leaning heavily over the table. 

 

Ellen nodded. “I figured you were an Angel. You sort of have a halo. Well, so why do you two look like you just ran over a herd of puppies?”

 

Jo came over with burgers, fries, and thick wedges of chocolate pie. She leaned against her mother as Dean started the story.

 

They had been invited inside the house by a very frightened looking woman. She was clearly grateful they were there, and pointed out some of the Poltergeist’s handiwork: a stack of chairs on a table, books thrown all around the room, pictures skewed on the wall.

 

“We’ll take care of this, ma’am,” Dean said kindly. “Why don’t you go someplace else, a diner or a coffee house, and I’ll call you when we’re done.”

 

Dean had made sure that Castiel was close by him since this was his first hunt (an excuse that Ellen clearly wasn’t buying, Jo either if the look they exchanged said anything) and they went looking for the spirit.

 

Dean started as per usual by salting the doors and windows so the spirit couldn’t flee as he chanted the exorcism through the house, only to return later. He started in the attic and worked his way down to the second floor. The master bedroom was when they first experienced trouble. The spirit was incredibly unhappy at being cornered and unable to leave, so it started throwing objects at Dean and Castiel. One of those objects was a very large, heavy glass sphere and it was aimed directly at Dean’s head.

 

“Are you okay?” Ellen exclaimed, grabbing Dean and running her hand over his head. “Oh, honey!” 

 

Dean gave Ellen an indulgent smile. “I’m fine, mom,” he snarked. 

 

Ellen gave him a good patent no-nonsense glare. “Watch it, boy. I can still whip your ass you know.” 

 

“I know,” he pouted. “So, the spirit lobbed this heavy glass thing at me, and…” 

 

Dean had been sure he was dead. There was no way to duck, move, get out of the way. Then this hand just came out of nowhere and caught the ball of leaded glass, crushing it to dust. 

Dean turned and gaped at Castiel, who had this hard, menacing look on his face. He was no longer a bewildered Purchasing Manager at an IT company going through an Awakening. No, he was an Angel, dangerous and eternal, and the Poltergeist didn’t stand a chance. 

 

Dean watched as Castiel advanced on the spirit, then stretched out his hand and obliterated it without chanting an exorcism or anything. 

 

It would have been impressive, really, if the Angel hadn’t collapsed right after that, sweating and shaky and practically unable to move. 

 

“So you came here?” Ellen asked, alarmed.

 

“He was starving, I figured we needed to recharge his batteries.” 

 

“How’d you get him out of the house, Dee?” Jo asked, bright smile belying what a little shit she was being. Dean scowled at her. “You carried him, didn’t you?” 

 

Castiel picked up a fry and dipped it in ketchup, hands shaking as he brought it to his mouth. 

 

“Jo, go start taking orders,” Ellen said, making Jo huff and complain before stomping away. “Cas, are you okay?” 

 

Castiel nodded, chewing his fry as he tried to pick up a second one. 

 

“Don’t lie to me, boy,” Ellen growled. “You look like hell and you’re shaking like a leaf.” She turned to Dean. “You need to get him to your place, boy. Get him warm, he’s in shock.” 

 

“This was the first place I could think of going,” Dean breathed. Seeing Castiel collapsed on the ground had shaken him badly. He reached out for Ellen’s hand. “I knew you’d know what to do.” 

 

Ellen leaned over and kissed his cheek, squeezing his hand tightly. “Oh, you’re a sweetheart, Dean. But really, he probably needs a place to process what happened.” She leaned into Dean and indicated Castiel, who was still listlessly eating his fries. “Look, I don’t know exactly what a Hunter/Angel bond entails, but I do know that he just took care of you, and now it’s your turn to take care of him.” She stood and patted him on the shoulders, dropping another kiss to the back of his head before leaving them to their dinner.

 

Dean scooted to her vacated chair and moved close to Castiel, pulling the plate with the burger on it up to him. He cut it in half and held the half up to Castiel’s lips. The Angel looked up at him, eyes tired and glassy, and opened his mouth, gripping Dean’s wrist to hold it steady while he took his bite. Dean’s breath hitched when those full, plush lips wrapped around the burger. Then Castiel dropped his head to Dean’s shoulder and Dean had to resist the urge to nuzzle the dark, wild curls that spilled warm and soft against his neck. He could feel Castiel working his jaw as he chewed, and it felt vulnerable, those little bites.

 

He could have reached for his own burger, but he took a bite of Castiel’s instead, not really thinking about the fact that the Angel still had his hand wrapped around Dean’s wrist. They ate like that for the whole meal, splitting both burgers, fries, and pies. They would chew together and he would rest his jaw against Castiel’s head. It was comfortable to be this close to Castiel. It felt amazing, and it was so…erotic. Watching food disappear into that mouth, those lips wrapped around a fry, a pink tongue darting out to lick at whipped cream that didn’t quite make it in. Dean couldn’t help a little groan escaping when Castiel raised Dean’s hand to his mouth and swiped at a bit of chocolate pudding that got caught on his thumb. He was hard, and it took every ounce of self-will to not haul Castiel into his lap and shove his tongue down his throat. What was worse was that he could imagine what it would be like to suck on the Angel’s lips, clean that little bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth.

 

Castiel looked up at him with glassy eyes, and it was clear that the Angel wanted him too. It was so easy to think with his dick in this situation, to just take Castiel home and make love (make love, really?) all night, but he wasn’t sure he could do that yet. Castiel was still going through his Awakening. What would Dean do if Castiel came into his power fully and chose someone else over him, or chose no one and went on his way? Dean had only ever been in two steady relationships, but he had fallen hard and fast for both. In the end, Victor had been murdered, and Benny had chosen his hive over Dean. He couldn’t go through that kind of heartache again, not until he knew he could trust Castiel.

 

He looked up from that gorgeous face and those bluer-than-blue eyes to glance around The Roadhouse. Most folk were ignoring the two lovers, though a few were looking at them curious, some with jealousy, and two with outright hostility in their eyes. Dean knew those two and understood that their hostility stemmed from envy of biblical proportions. Two of the curious ones were his brothers. Adam had apparently entered earlier when he was otherwise occupied and sat at the bar, chatting with Sam. When Adam realized Dean was looking at him, he offered a shy wave and a tentative thumbs-up. Dean motioned him over.

 

“Cas, my baby brother is here.”

 

Castiel disengaged slightly from where he was slumped against Dean’s side. He was less shaky now, though the dark circles under his eyes told Dean how drained he was after the Poltergeist incident.

 

“Dean,” Adam said pleasantly, allowing his older brother to pull him into a hug. “Who’s your friend?”

 

Dean wanted to roll his eyes at that question. As though he and Sammy hadn’t been gossiping like two old hens while Dean and Castiel shared their meal. “Adam, this is Castiel.”

 

Castiel stood and extended his hand, swaying slightly. “Hello, Adam. A pleasure.”

 

Adam gave his big, happy smile. “Hi, Castiel. Wow, it’s really nice to meet you.”

 

Castiel glanced at Dean who shrugged, then gave his brother his best Defcon 4 glare as he stood slightly behind Castiel’s shoulder.

 

“Are you ready to go home, Adam?” Dean asked, changing the subject. “Castiel’s had a hard day, and he needs to go home and rest.”

 

“Oh, I was totally planning on it, but Sammy just mentioned that Jess finally got their guest room all done up, and I promised to take their brand new mattress for a spin tonight.” Dean decided to go with Defcon 5. “Besides, you know, Sammy pays for most of my schooling. I really ought to spend more time with him.”

 

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Dean mused.

 

“Hmm, I thought so,” Adam agreed, his eyes shining a little too brightly, his smile waaaayyyy too happy. “Well, you two have a good night all by yourselves.”

 

Dean could punch him. “Yeah, you too. Tell Jess I said hi.”

 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll tell her you send your best.”

 

Dean decided to take his Angel and go home. He sent a wave and another glare to Sam, kissed Ellen, and led Castiel from the bar to the Impala. It felt like it had been weeks since he had sat in his kitchen, proposing a Poltergeist hunt to Castiel, but it had really only been about twelve hours. 

 

The house felt warm and solid as they stepped in, and Dean helped Castiel take off his long coat. 

 

“Thank you, Dean,” he murmured, and Dean couldn’t help but let his hands linger on Castiel’s shoulders as they stood by the coat hooks that hung in the hallway. 

 

“You gonna be okay?” he asked gruffly, giving Castiel’s shoulders a little squeeze. 

 

Castiel turned, not moving back, and their chests were nearly touching. “I feel much better after having eaten. I think I need to rest.” 

 

Dean nodded. “Good idea.” Space would be nice. He needed some space or he was going to do something stupid. 

 

Castiel leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Dean. For caring for me.” 

 

Dean stared at Castiel’s ass as he walked away (that thing was like a magnet—left, right, left right, he stopped because his head was following the sway of his hips), the spot on his cheek burning where Castiel had kissed him. It was an invitation; that was apparent enough, as was the perfectly sculpted derriere currently wiggling up the stairs. But it was too soon. Surely Castiel had to see that it was too soon? 

 

“Castiel,” he called, wanting to make sure the Angel knew he wasn’t just blowing him off.

 

“Yes, Dean?” 

 

Dean foundered for something witty to say. “Uh…Sweet dreams?” 

 

Castiel gave him a blank look, then realization dawned. He looked a little embarrassed, but also sad and understanding at the same time. “Of course. You too, Dean.” 

 

Dean watched his ascent. 

 

Right. 

 

Left. 

 

Right. 

 

Left. 

 

Okay, now Castiel was just trying to jerk his chain because there was no way a man had to shake his hips that much. 

 

“Good job, asshole,” he muttered to himself.


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel didn’t realize he was screaming out loud until he came fully awake in Dean’s arms. The Hunter was rocking him gently and stroking his hair, murmuring that everything was okay, that it would be okay. 

 

“Dean!” 

 

Dean shushed him. “What happened, man?” 

Castiel arched his back. “My wings! My wings are…I think something’s wrong with them.” 

 

Dean placed his hand flat on Castiel’s back, stroking the skin in long, soothing motions. “I’m sorry, I can’t see them.” 

 

Castiel pressed into Dean’s hand. “That feels good, though. I don’t…what do you think it is? Do you think I broke my wings?” 

 

“I don’t know. Um…maybe we should call one of your friends. They might be able to help.” 

 

Castiel thought that over as Dean helped him snuggle back into bed. “I think Balthazar and Lucifer could help me out. We can call them in the morning.” 

 

“How are you feeling, other than that?” 

 

Castiel thought it over. He had been really hoping Dean would want to take him to bed, particularly after their dinner, but he saw the wisdom in holding off. They barely knew each other, and physical attraction could be overcome. If there was something else there, something deeper, he’d rather take his time and let the relationship unfold slowly. 

 

After banishing the Poltergeist (he wished he could remember how he did it!), he had been utterly drained. He barely remembered Dean hoisting him over his shoulder and carrying him out, but Ellen’s food had helped revive him some. He had been plagued with odd dreams that seemed real. The dream that Dean woke him from had been painful; his wings were caught in a door and he couldn’t free them. He could still feel them, and they felt like they were cramping. The best way he had always found to release a cramp was to stretch, but how did he stretch his wings? He felt oddly disconnected from them, as though they were an internal organ. Something that was there but that he couldn’t manipulate. 

 

“I feel much better than I did last night. Ellen’s food is wonderfully restorative.” 

 

Dean smiled at that. “You can say that again. She puts her heart in every pie.” 

 

“It shows,” Castiel yawned. Dean was touching his shoulder, and Castiel on impulse grabbed his hand and held it to his heart. “Thanks for waking me up,” he murmured. “Bad dreams.” 

 

Dean stretched out next to Castiel and Castiel put the blanket over him. They fell back asleep quickly, and Dean kept Castiel’s nightmares away. 

 

}O{

 

Balthazar sounded happy to hear from Castiel. He expressed worry over his friend and asked some incredibly specific questions, particularly in regards to Dean. 

 

“He hasn’t tried to mate with you, has he?” 

 

Castiel got up quickly and closed his door. “No!” he whispered harshly into the phone. “Good grief, Bal!” 

 

Balthazar chuckled on the other end of the line. “Oh, grow up, Cassie. Seriously, though, he hasn’t?” 

 

“No,” Castiel said again, this time petulantly. “I don’t think he wants to.” 

 

Balthazar huffed. “Yeah, right. He could be wary. Maybe he has some baggage? Plus, Michael wants you too, and he might think you’d prefer your own species over himself.” 

 

Castiel frowned. “I like Michael, but he’s just a friend. I’m not…attracted to him.” 

 

“Well, keep an open mind, love. I thought I wasn’t attracted to Lu at first, too, and now look at us.” 

 

“Bal, can I ask…” 

 

“Anything, darling. I’m an open book.” 

 

“Did you know that I was one of you?” 

 

“Yes,” Balthazar said immediately. “Once you come fully awake, you’ll recognize all Angels when you see them, and you’ll remember them.” 

 

“So we were once all together? In another life?” Castiel started to play with the peeling wallpaper next to his doorjamb. 

 

“We were all in Heaven,” Balthazar confirmed. “You’ll be able to return there after you Awaken.” 

 

Castiel hadn’t been expecting that. “I was wondering if I could see you today. I’ve had some odd dreams, and my wings hurt, or I think they’re my wings. I don’t know. Something hurts, and I can’t do anything about it.” 

 

“Come on over! Or would you rather we come to you?” 

 

Castiel thought that over. “I guess I’d rather have you come here. I’m still not comfortable to be in my apartment after…Michael.” 

 

He gave Balthazar Dean’s address, and close to lunchtime, Lucifer and Balthazar were there in Dean’s living room, both sporting an impressive pair of wings. Dean and Castiel both stared at them with open-mouthed awe. 

Balthazar’s were ice blue, reminding Castiel of a glacier and Lucifer’s were a calming pond green, deep and glossy with golden highlights as though sunlight were reflecting off of them. 

 

“Wow,” Dean breathed. 

 

“How do you do that?” Castiel wondered, reaching a hand out to Balthazar’s, then pulling it back as if remembering himself. 

 

Balthazar rolled his shoulders and the wings were gone. “You tell them to come out or go back.” 

 

Lucifer took Dean by the arm. “You two work on that. I need to have a few words with Dean here.” 

 

Dean searched Castiel’s face to make sure he was all right, and Castiel inclined his head to let Dean know it was fine. The Hunter left with Lucifer and Balthazar sat Castiel down on the sofa, taking the seat beside him. 

 

“Okay, here we go. We close our eyes…” Castiel obediently closed his eyes, “and we imagine our wings sprouting from our back, coming out to say hello.” 

 

Castiel tried for several moments, then opened his eyes in exasperation. “I just don’t think I can do it, Bal!” 

 

Balthazar opened his eyes and looked above Castiel’s head. “Oh no?” 

 

Castiel frowned and looked behind his shoulder. There was something there, but as he moved, it went out of his vision. “What…?”

 

“They’re just like your arms, Castiel. You just think of them moving, and they move.” 

 

Castiel rolled his shoulders a little and the wings stretched out next to him, fluffy feathers waving like dandelion pods, downy white and speckled with light brown. “Why do my feathers look so much different than yours?” 

 

Balthazar reached out a hand and stroked down one wing. “They’re your baby feathers. You’re still a fledgling right now. They’ll molt and new ones will come in. Your wings will grow, too. That’s probably why you were feeling pain. Growing pains, you know.” 

 

Castiel touched the downy fluff, softer than any birds feathers he’d ever felt. “The color is different too. I thought they’d be blue. In my dreams, they were blue.” 

 

“The color will change when you molt,” Balthazar said dismissively, running his hands over them. “They feel good, though, nice and curved and strong. Nothing the matter, really. When you get your first flight feathers, we’ll have to teach you how to fly.” 

 

Castiel thought this over. “You’re not going to throw me out of a nest, are you?” 

 

He and Balthazar laughed together. “Don’t tempt me,” he joked. “Oh, Cassie. I’m so happy you’re with us now. It doesn’t matter what you choose to do, if you want to mate with Dean or Michael or neither…you’re our brother, you know, and we’ve missed you.” 

 

Castiel was shocked by the emotion in the usually aloof and snarky Brit. On impulse, he stood and hugged his friend. “Thank you, Bal,” he said. “I really can’t wait to remember everything else. I assume we had some history together?” 

 

Balthazar nodded. “We were very good friends, you and I. We trained under the same Master when we learned swordplay and hand-to-hand combat. We had a lot of fun.” 

 

Castiel nodded. He’d always liked Balthazar a lot. It was good to know that they could still be close. He wanted to say something else, but then Dean and Lucifer came back. Whatever they had talked about, neither one looked very happy. 

 

“Lucie. Shall we get lunch?” Balthazar asked. 

 

Lucifer nodded. “Yes, that’s a good idea.” 

 

Both Dean and Lucifer stared at Castiel’s wings, but for different reasons. Lucifer checked them over in the same way Balthazar had, making sure the bones were straight and the feathers were laying right. Dean just stared in awe. 

 

“Okay, put them away,” Lucifer instructed. “Just like taking them out.” 

 

Castiel complied, surprised that he was controlling them so well. “Wow. That’s the first thing I’ve done that I know what I’m doing.” 

 

Lucifer gave him a pat on the back. “It’s okay. You’ll start controlling your powers sooner than you think. And you’ll start sustaining the power better. Dean told me about the Poltergeist. Are you okay?” 

 

Castiel nodded. “Yes, thank you. I was tired afterwards, but I feel better today.” 

 

Lucifer frowned. “But you had nightmares last night?” 

 

“Is it significant?” 

 

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Once you fully Awaken, you won’t need sleep unless you’re seeking Revelation. This usually comes in the form of a dream, so dreams usually mean something. You’re still Awakening, though, so it could just be your subconscious reacting to your day.” 

 

Balthazar wrapped his arm around Lucifer’s shoulders. “We don’t need to eat , either, but I like to eat, so let’s go get some lunch.” 

 

Lucifer took them to a family diner that Castiel had never noticed before, and no wonder, for it was a Bizarre place full of the supernatural. Their waitress seemed to be part tree and appeared to have leaves for hair. They ordered and were silent until their food was brought, and then Lucifer used the bottle of ketchup to make a sigil at the corner of the table.

 

“This will keep them from listening in on us,” he said. “Now, Cas, tell Balthazar about the Poltergeist.”

 

Castiel related the incident from his own perspective, the only part changing was how he came to banish the spirit. “I knew Dean was in mortal peril, and my body just reacted. I didn’t know I could move so fast, and when I reached out, it was impulsive. I had no plan in mind. Was it instinct?” 

 

“So you banished a Poltergeist first time out to bat. Good job, Cassie,” Balthazar said appreciatively, even as Lucifer glared at him.

 

“It’s not “good job, Cassie,”” Lucifer groused. “Bad job, Dean! What were you thinking? You could have forced him to Wake fully with all his powers, unable to control them!”

 

Castiel frowned. This was the second time he’d heard this. “What would happen if I did that?”

 

Lucifer and Balthazar shared a look and Balthazar reached across to put his hand on Castiel’s arm. “If you had all your powers and none of your humanity, you’d be a force to be reckoned with,” Balthazar said gently. “Instead of seeing Human shades of grey, everything would be black and white, right and wrong.”

 

“You’d turn vengeful,” Lucifer added.

 

“Like Dogma?” Dean asked in awe.

 

Lucifer glared at him. “Yeah, only instead of cuddly Matt Damon, you’d have a frightening machine.”

 

Castiel frowned. “What are you two talking about? I don’t understand these references.”

 

Dean put his hand on Castiel’s thigh. It felt warm and wonderful. “I’ll show you the movie later. Let’s just say, I think I understand what’s going on. So Cas would know everyone’s sins and punish them accordingly.”

 

Lucifer nodded. “With blood and pain and more pain.”

 

“We had a bloke do that about a hundred years ago,” Balthazar mused, spreading brown mustard onto his sandwich. “It took both Lu and Mikey to bring him down. And he was just a Cherub. Cassie here is a Seraph. It would probably take all seven Archangels for that, and two of them haven’t been born yet and one is missing.”

 

Castiel wrinkled his brow. “How do you know who has been born and who hasn’t?”

 

“The same way we show our wings, Cassie,” Balthazar replied. “We’ll work on that, I promise you. Now eat your soup.”

 

They ate quietly, but not in awkward silence. They were just eating and had nothing of interest to say. For desert, Balthazar and Lucifer decided to share a piece of pineapple upside-down cake, and Dean ordered a piece of pecan pie. When it came, he took the fork, speared a piece, and offered it to Castiel. Castiel looked up at Dean with a smile, remembering their shared meal from the day before and grasped Dean’s wrist, directing his hand as he leaned in for the bite. He looked up at Dean as he chewed, a light smile around both their mouths. Dean looked immensely pleased with himself and his eyes were so green and warm, like a Christmas tree.

 

“Poor Mikey,” Balthazar murmured, pulling Castiel and Dean from their trance.

 

“What’s that?” Castiel asked, looking back and forth between Lucifer and Balthazar, who were sharing knowing glances.

 

“Just saying poor Mikey,” Balthazar repeated. “You know. Because he doesn’t stand a chance against Dean.”

 

Both the Hunter and the Angel turned red at that assessment.


	6. Chapter 6

Hunters are the brightest and best, hand-picked by Odin in this life to fight the Dark Forces of the Supernatural. They are kind, loyal, tenacious and caring. But it is to their detriment. It is always to their detriment. I urge you, however, to not lose faith that one day you may find happiness. I had given up all hope until I found my beloved Muriel. My life has been one of loss since my youngest memories, and yet I still cling to the happiness that Muriel has brought to my life. If you do not answer the call of the Hounds, if you do not Hunt with the sky riders, you will find completeness. Your love will be an Anchor to keep you from drifting. 

Castiel puttered around Dean’s house as Dean was out taking care of a Skinwalker with one of his friends, a man called Bobby who had come in during breakfast and interrogated Castiel more thoroughly in five minutes than most people had in five years. Castiel answered a series of rapid-fire questions from the older man well at first, but when Bobby asked if he’d ever had a boyfriend or girlfriend, Castiel started getting tongue tied. Dean had stepped in, though it was clear he wanted to know the answer, too, and Bobby had changed tactics, asking about college, parents, his work, his boss, his neighbors, whether he’d heard from Charlie and, surprisingly, bringing up the weather.

 

“Fine morning, though,” Bobby had said, his non-sequitur making Castiel blink in confusion as he looked out the frilly red curtains Dean kept at the window over the sink.

Castiel had barely managed to stutter out an affirmative answer (what do you say to that, exactly? “Yes, Bobby, it is a fine day today, but if it were snowing or raining, I’d think it was fine as well.”) before Dean hauled Bobby out of the house, both of them with pieces of toast in one hand and a travel mug of the thick, nearly burnt brew Dean called coffee in the other.

“Just call me if you need any help!” Dean had said over his shoulder.

Now Castiel was left to his own devices, and even though there was about six hours’ worth of television saved on Dean’s DVR, he found himself searching over the house instead.

If he hadn’t liked Dean, if he had merely been attracted and not cared, he might ignore anything personal about the man. Goodness knew Castiel had been on both the receiving and giving ends of hasty hookups at clubs and parties during his college days, never caring about the mouth he was thrusting into, or the dick he was sucking down. Dean was so different, though. He wanted to know what made him tick, what turned him on, what he liked to do in his downtime, about his brothers and his friends, and anything else that might be significant.

He started in the largest room, a sort of informal living room. It was all hardwood floors and faded, yellowed once-white paint and darker wood accents on the walls. There was a big, red brick fireplace against one wall and a huge picture window against another. One of the sofas was dingy white with little red and pink roses printed on it, the sort of sofa that had a wooden frame and stood up on wooden legs. It was plush and comfy, however. Still, Castiel couldn’t help but think that Dean did not pick out this sofa. His mother, perhaps? It looked to be an older piece, like most of the furniture in the room. It was another mystery. Why would manly Dean Winchester have such a feminine piece of furniture?

He went to the mantel and found framed pictures in plenty, the sofa featured prominently in a few that showed three young boys on Christmas morning and a strikingly beautiful blonde and a handsome man. Castiel recognized Dean, Sam and Adam from when they were children.

There was a picture of Sam with a beautiful woman, Jess presumably, Adam with a graduation cap, Bobby with Ellen and Jo, and a few other people that Castiel didn’t recognize.

In a bookcase, he found Vonnegut, Kafka, Rowling, various reference books on mythology, cookbooks that looked well used and dusted with flour, and then at the bottom, a photo album. Curious, Castiel sat down on the floor and opened the album. The very first page was an 8X10 photo of an incredibly handsome closely-cropped man with dark eyes, warm brown skin and a well-trimmed goatee. He was striking, and Castiel stared at his face for a good minute, just appreciating how handsome he was. His smile was open and friendly and his eyes were warm and kind. Castiel didn’t know who he was, but he felt that he might like him.

The second page decided him that he didn’t like this man at all. The second page was a picture of Dean and this man. Dean was clearly holding the camera at arm’s length, taking the picture himself. The unknown man had one hand on Dean’s shoulder, and the other hand was under Dean’s arm, crossed over his chest, holding him tight. They looked happy. Jealousy bloomed in Castiel’s chest as he looked at other pictures of Dean and this man. Hugging, kissing, smiling, looking happier than he’d ever seen Dean.

And it wasn’t just Dean who seemed to love this man. There were pictures of him with Sam and Adam too. The man kissed Ellen on the cheek, and she smiled and just let him. Castiel didn’t think Ellen would let just anyone kiss her cheek. The clincher was a strip from a photobooth. Both Dean and the man were huddled inside, and Dean was obviously sitting on the man’s lap. They laughed at the camera, they kissed, touched foreheads, and then just smiled happily in the last frame.

The next page was a pamphlet from a funeral. The man’s face was in a small square at the top, his name listed as Victor Edgar Henriksen. He had been only twenty-nine when he died six years ago, making Dean somewhere around twenty-one or twenty-two at the time. Castiel wanted to know how long he dated this man, where he met him, how much he loved him, and whether…

Castiel put the book away and pulling his knees to his chest, dropped his head down and covered the back of his neck with his hands. He didn’t want to think of Victor with Dean, or anyone else with him for that matter. Dean had loved this man, there was just no way to fake the way he had looked at him. Victor was handsome and had beautiful broad shoulders and was so much better looking than Castiel. How could he have ever thought he would have a chance with someone like Dean?

And this man was liked by Dean’s family. Bobby, Ellen, Adam, Sam and Jo were all pictured with him, all clearly comfortable with him, all loving him. Sure, they had been welcoming to Castiel, but…

He stood and stalked through the room. Why had he snooped? Why couldn’t he have left well enough alone? He had been sure that Dean liked him, but now he was plagued by self-doubt and insecurity. Maybe Dean hadn’t been keeping him at arm’s length because he was afraid. Maybe he just wasn’t that into him. Maybe everything that had transpired between the two of them was in his imagination. He had let himself get carried away with a fantasy, and Dean probably didn’t feel anything for him.

His phone rang and he was surprised to find Sam on the other end.

“Hey, Cas, Dean told me he was gone on a Hunt today, and I thought you and I might get lunch together?”

Castiel looked down at the bookshelf where the photo album was. “Um, thank you, Sam. That would be nice.”

“Great!” Sam said enthusiastically. “Can we meet at the Oakhurst Diner on Second at about Twelve-Fifteen?”

“Sure,” Castiel said, his mood lifting a little. “This is very kind of you, Sam.”

}O{

It was the same diner Dean and Castiel had gone to the day before with Balthazar and Lucifer, and the same waitress took their order too.

“Thank you for asking me to lunch,” Castiel said formally when they were alone.

Sam smiled. “Don’t be so stiff, Cas. I’m here if you need me, and I’d like to know you better. Especially if you’re going to be around for a while.”

Castiel played with his silverware. “Dean has agreed to help only through my Awakening,” he said. “After that, I may never see you again.”

Sam gave him a kind smile. “I’m sure you’ll be around a lot longer than that.” 

Castiel gulped and studied the menu, unsure of how to answer. 

Sam put his finger on Castiel’s menu and lowered it a bit. “Cas, I know Dean sucks at this stuff, but he likes you.” 

Castiel looked deep in Sam’s eyes, which were half brown and half green right now, and narrowed his own. “You had a dream about me, didn’t you?” 

Sam laughed, but didn’t deny it. “I’m glad Dean told you about that, by the way. He told me he had, and I was proud of him. To answer your question, I had a dream that you and I were here, and I was telling you that Dean is very interested in you, and you thought that maybe you weren’t good enough for him.” 

Castiel gave a rueful chuckle. “But Sam, I…” 

Sam stopped him. “Look, this is between you and Dean. All I can tell you is that he is obviously into you.” He pulled out his phone and showed Castiel a picture of them from two nights prior, when they were snuggled together at The Roadhouse. Dean was staring down at him with such affection in his eyes that Castiel felt a little overwhelmed. 

“So, so it’s not…” 

“It’s not in your imagination,” Sam said with a smile. “I told you that in my dream. I like you, Castiel. I think you could be good for Dean. As his brother, that’s mostly what concerns me, but I honestly think he could be good for you, too. I want you around.” 

Castiel felt overwhelmed again. “It’s as simple as that?” 

“It can be,” Sam promised. 

}O{

Dean hadn’t wanted to leave Castiel behind that morning, but he also didn’t want him turning vengeful, so it was really no contest what he’d have to do. He did invite Castiel to read any of his books he wanted, though, or to do anything else he might enjoy. 

Bobby had been a trip, as usual, drilling Castiel like a detective with a murder suspect. Dean had sat by passively for part of it, watching to see how Castiel reacted. When it was clear that the Angel was only mildly put-off by the old Hunter, answering all of his questions kindly until Bobby got too personal. Dean stepped in then, reminding Bobby that he wasn’t privy to all aspects of Castiel’s life. 

Bobby hadn’t been upset with Dean for stepping in. On the contrary, he was happy that Dean stood up for Castiel. Didn’t stop him from calling Dean an “idjit” the minute they got in the car, though. 

Dean had smiled at that, knowing full well that Bobby was being complimentary, and that Castiel had passed his tests. He liked that his family seemed to like Castiel. They had never liked Benny, and while they had liked Victor in the beginning, particularly because he had helped Dean turn his life around, they had been unhappy with him towards the end when all the fighting started. 

“So, wanna tell me why ya ain’t bringin’ lover boy along?” Bobby grumbled when they started out. 

“According to Lucifer—yes, the Lucifer—and Balthazar, if Castiel comes into his full powers before he Awakens completely, he’ll go Avenging Angel on the world.”

“Like Matt Damon in Dogma?” 

Dean snorted. “Yeah, only according to them, not nearly so cuddly.” 

Bobby raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. The ride to the area where the Skinwalker was terrorizing was relatively quiet. Dean and Bobby tended to talk about only important things, like how much ammunition and scotch might be left. Sam was the one who would have brought up Dean’s feelings about Castiel, so Sam wasn’t exactly surprised to find texts from Sam when he got to his destination, regarding those very feelings. 

Hey jerk, I’m taking Cas out for lunch. 

Dean smiled at the message. At least he knew Castiel wouldn’t be lonely for the afternoon. 

Good. Now leave me alone. Hunting something. Bitch. 

Dean tucked his phone away and started stalking the Skinwalker. 

For the most part, Hunters would leave the Supernatural alone, but if the creatures started hurting people, Hunters were compelled to eradicate the threat. The Skinwalker Dean and Bobby were looking for had been taking the forms of various men throughout the town and raping women. Dean was upset that four women had been violated so far, and that he hadn’t cottoned on sooner. He had always possessed a strong sense of responsibility for the people in his region, but he didn’t feel that he was being unduly hard on himself this time. He should have known what this was after the first, and certainly after the second. Once he had killed the Skinwalker, he was going to go over his research and figure out what he had done wrong, how he had missed it. 

“I know what you’re thinkin’, boy,” Bobby said. “You gotta let this go. You ain’t the world’s big brother.” 

Dean sighed, spying a small bit of goo that was probably skin at one point. He crouched down and touched it, confirming the skin of a Skinwalker. “We’re on the right track,” he muttered. 

 

Bobby gave him the look that he reserved for times when Dean was being stupid, but Bobby didn’t really want to have to talk about feelings, so he would let it go for now. 

 

They made their way slowly to an abandoned house, then found themselves in the basement. There seemed to be some sort of catacomb that they followed, the stink helping them along as much as the trail of rotting bones and discarded skin. 

 

When they found the nest, Bobby let out a loud growl. “Bah, do these sonsabitches have to make everything smell like rotting meat?” he groused. 

 

Dean laughed. “Well, some animals pee on everything to mark their territory. Maybe that’s how these guys work too.” 

 

Thankfully that was enough to pull the Skinwalker from its hiding place, and soon Dean had his arms full of slimy, shifting monster. 

“Don’t hug it, stab it!” Bobby admonished. 

Dean managed to push the creature away from him with his forearm. “I’m trying!” 

Bobby rolled his eyes and stabbed it from behind. The creature collapsed slimily against Dean and he managed to roll it off, not pleased with the detached flesh that decided to stay on him. 

“Man, this is my favorite flannel!” Dean groused, wiping off a bit and making a face. 

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Yeah. It makes such a huge difference to that shirt.” 

Dean grimaced at him, but when they lit the fire to burn the remains of the Skinwalker, he threw his shirt down with it, letting it go. He’d never want to wear it again after it was covered in decaying slime. 

“Lucky we caught it in a molt,” Bobby murmured. 

Dean agreed. “Nice to know you still have my back, though,” he said with a smile. “Save my bacon and make me feel like crap at the same time.”

“Suck it up, Buttercup. Did I hurt your feelings?” 

Dean laughed. “No, I just like messing with you.” 

“Idjit.” 

They let the fire burn out, then made their way back to the Impala. Dean checked his messages and found more from Sam. 

Dude, you need to talk to Cas about…wait for it…feelings.

Seriously, man, he needs to know you want him. 

Before you ask, yes I had a Dream last night.

Dean, you can’t lose him. He’s your anchor. I know he is.

Dean sighed. 

 

I thought I was the gay one around here?

 

Funny. You’re so funny. But I’m serious, Dean. 

 

What do you want me to tell him, exactly? I can’t take away his free will, I won’t be like that Michael jerk.

 

You can tell him you like him and want to be with him without forcing him to do anything. He has a right to know. 

 

Yeah, okay. What’d you see, anyway?

 

I can’t tell you. You and Bobby coming to The Roadhouse?

 

Yeah. We’re about two hours out. 

 

Okay. See you there. And you are a jerk.

 

Bitch.

 

“That Sam?” 

 

“Yeah. He’s at The Roadhouse. I told him we’d meet him there.” 

 

“You sure you don’t wanna get cleaned up a bit first for loverboy?” 

 

Dean looked down at the mess on his T-shirt. “I guess I should change,” he conceded to Bobby’s studious avoidance of a proper response. 

 

After dropping Bobby off (how did he manage to stay clean, exactly? Oh, right, by letting Dean do all the dirty work), Dean went back to his house to just pull on a new shirt quickly. Being slightly OCD, however, he noticed right away all the little things that Castiel had moved around and tried to put back in the same spot. What drew his eye the most, though, was the small line of disturbed dust where Castiel had pulled out Victor’s photo album. He went into the living room and knelt down, pushing his finger over the spotless surface. 

So Castiel knew about Victor now. 

 

Dean panicked just a bit, wondering what Castiel thought or if Castiel thought, and why was he feeling guilty when he was more than allowed to have a romantic past? Dean knew he usually reacted the wrong way, so he was trying to tamp down his annoyance. All he wanted to do was stalk up to Castiel and tell him that his past was none of his business, and that Dean didn’t care how many people Castiel had slept with, and how many people Dean had slept with shouldn’t matter either, except…

 

Well, shit. Except that he did care. He did care who had touched Castiel in the past, and if he loved that person, if he still wanted him or her, and how long they had been together. It mattered to him, dammit. It mattered. 

 

So, he was going to have to explain Victor to Cas. 

 

How did he explain Victor to Cas when he didn’t always understand Victor himself? 

 

He pulled out his phone and sent another text to Sam.

 

Okay, tell me how to talk to Cas about my feelings.

 

You open your mouth and you tell him how you feel. Obviously.

 

And what do I tell him about Victor? 

 

Hey, Cas, I used to love this jerk named Victor. We broke up and then he died. It was sad. Wanna gross everyone out with our food porn again? 

 

I hate you. 

 

I know. 

 

I am Han Solo in our relationship. You are Leia. 

 

Whatever you have to tell yourself. Are you coming by or what? 

 

Dean pocketed his phone and decided it was time to face the music. He would tell Cas about Victor. He could do this.


	7. Chapter 7

Adam gave Dean a bright smile when he walked into The Roadhouse, and Sam gave him a frown.

 

“Where have you been?” the older one demanded while the younger one gave him a happy hug.

 

Dean tousled Adam’s short hair. “Hi, Adam. Nice to see at least one of my brothers knows how to find his way to a barber.”

 

Sam gave him Bitchface: Classic Edition. “Whatever. Shut up. You’re just jealous.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah. If I were to decide to grow my hair out, God Himself would weep at how awesome my body and shine is.”

 

“Whatever,” Sam said. “Cas is back in the corner with Bobby and Ellen.”

 

Dean looked over and saw the Angel with his other family. They were talking easily and it warmed his heart. He wanted Castiel to stick around, so the fact that his family seemed to have accepted Castiel already.

 

“Here he is!” Ellen said happily when Dean walked up, her tail twitching. She stood and kissed Dean’s cheek, giving Bobby a significant look as she walked away.

 

“Well, I’d better check on that thing you were telling me about,” Bobby said in the most non-obvious way possible. Dean wanted to laugh.

 

“Heya, Cas.”

 

Castiel looked up, but didn’t meet his eyes. “Hello, Dean.”

 

Dean sat down and Jo appeared out of nowhere with his burger and beer. “So, um, did you have a nice day with Sam?”

 

“Sam and I met for lunch, but then he needed to go back to work at his law firm. I took your advice and read a lot.”

 

“I know. I know what you read.”

 

Castiel looked so guilty that Dean wanted to hug him.

 

“It’s okay, Cas. But you have a right to know some things about me. If you and I…if we decide that this thing between us is something we want to keep going, then you deserve to know some things about me.”

 

“Dean, you don’t have to do this. It’s none of my business,” Castiel started, but Dean cut him off.

 

“Cas, I don’t want you to doubt that I like you.” He took a deep breath, then chanced a look at Castiel’s face. The Angel was smiling down at his hands, but his blush was what Dean focused on the most. He wanted to kiss those pinked cheeks. “I know you feel it too,” he murmured, drawing closer to Castiel and putting his hand over the Angel’s. “We’re drawn together.”

 

Castiel nodded. “Yes, Dean. I’m afraid almost of the attraction I feel towards you.”

 

Dean tipped Castiel’s chin up and looked deep into his eyes. “Don’t be afraid of me, Cas. I won’t let you down. I’m loyal, I swear to you…”

 

Castiel gulped and licked his lips nervously, and Dean felt an overwhelming urge to follow the path of the Angel’s tongue. Keeping eye contact, he dipped his head forward and lightly pressed his lips to Castiel’s. It wasn’t a huge romantic gesture, there was no tongue and it was almost over before it started, but it was one of the best and most erotic kisses Dean had ever shared with anyone.

 

Around them, the bar exploded into applause.

 

“Finally!” Adam shouted, making everyone laugh.

 

Dean turned his head to his audience, embarrassed and amused, giving Sam and Adam his best “Die you two face.”

 

“We should get out of here,” he said to Castiel. “We can go back to my place and—shit! No, not like that, Cas! Not…”

 

Castiel stopped him by pressing his fingers to his lips. “It’s okay, Dean. I know what you mean. I don’t want an audience either.”

 

Dean nodded. “I’ll go find Ellen and get some boxes for us.”

 

At the house, Castiel took Dean’s hand and led him up to his bedroom. They both wordlessly shed shoes and clothes until they were in boxers and T-shirts, then hunkered down in the bed together. Dean loved the way Castiel slid under his arm. It felt like he belonged there.

 

“So tell me,” Castiel said.

 

Dean lifted his hand and stroked lightly down Castiel’s back. “When I was a kid, my mom died. Adam was just a baby, Sam was a toddler. I was young. Eight years old. My dad just…he lost it. He’d been a Hunter all his life, he was born into it. So was my mom. Most of our books represent several generations’ worth of collecting and writing about the supernatural. Well, after Mom died, Dad started Hunting for real, and I was sort of left to take care of Sammy and Adam.”

 

Castiel looked up at him. “But you were a child.”

 

“I know,” Dean said. “But at the time, I thought…I thought I was so much older than everyone gave me credit for. Ellen was always yelling at Dad that he left us alone for too long, and Bobby would say that Dad gave me too much responsibility at too young an age, and I got mad at them for saying that because…because he was my dad, I guess.”

 

Castiel put his hand on Dean’s chest. “He _is_ your dad. You love him.”

 

Dean snorted. “I worshipped him. I thought he was…I thought he was Chuck Norris, man. He was larger than life, he was a hero and amazing and I thought I was part of some huge, heroic quest that he was on to find the jerk that ganked my mom.”

 

“It’s okay, Dean,” Castiel said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “You did a good job. Sam and Adam are fantastic people. But I’m sorry that you were forced to be their father in that way. You deserved a childhood too.”

 

Dean looked down at Castiel and smiled sadly, knowing that what he said was true. He had deserved a childhood, and the fact that Castiel could see that and not judge him or want to fix him or want to put his father down was amazing. Victor was always telling him that his dad had done a terrible job and had turned Dean into something less than he could be. Overwhelmed, Dean leaned down and kissed him again. This one was longer and full of more meaning. He loved the feel of Castiel’s lips against his. They were soft and slightly chapped and sweet. He tasted like the burger he’d been eating.

 

“Well, then my dad joined the Wild Hunt. I was fifteen at the time, and my dad disappeared and…” Dean sighed. “I started doing bad things. Stealing, drinking, doing drugs. Nothing too hard or dangerous, but enough to get me into trouble. I dropped out of school and Ellen and Bobby actually wouldn’t let me see my brothers until I got sober. That was my wake-up call.” He pulled Castiel closer. “I’m not proud of what I did or who I was, but I stopped when the thing that was most important to me, family, was threatened. I love my brothers, and I’ll do anything for them. So I started trying to get my life turned around, but I was a little too late. There was a cop. Victor. He…started paying attention to me.”

 

Castiel looked up. “How old were you?”

 

Dean smiled ruefully. “Too young. Seventeen. We shouldn’t have. We both knew it. But we did. Before you judge him too harshly, you need to know that he got me straightened out. He helped me get my GED and get off drugs. I was never addicted to drugs or alcohol, but it was a few years before I would trust myself with anything stronger than root beer.”

 

“And he died.”

 

Dean shrugged. “He didn’t _just_ die. We started fighting when I was about to turn twenty. We had always had fights, but we really started fighting hard then. He would say things about my dad, about the way he raised me. If I wanted to Hunt or even just go to The Roadhouse, he’d say that I was being a good little robot like my daddy trained me to be. I’d tell him that this was what I wanted to do, that it gave me purpose, and he’d argue with me, try to talk me into going to college.

 

“Eventually we started drifting apart and Adam and Sam would stay with Bobby when he was here. I knew I needed to choose either my family or my boyfriend, so I chose my family. Victor was killed in the line of duty five months later.”

 

The angel slid into his lap and his arms were full of Castiel, his body surrounded by him. He thought he felt something soft like wings against his face as Castiel wrapped his arms around his shoulders, but he didn’t see them. “I’m so sorry, Dean.”

 

Dean pulled him away and smiled at him. “Don’t be sorry, kiddo. He was too old for me, and it was really and truly over. It was good for what it was, but…you don’t—you’re not in competition with a ghost. I loved him. But not anymore.”

 

Castiel nodded. “I’m glad to know that.”  

 

“There’s one more thing,” Dean said, squeezing his eyes shut. “Then there was Benny a few years later.”

 

Castiel went stiff. “You don’t have to tell me about _everyone_ you’ve ever slept with.”

 

“Why, you have somewhere else you have to be?” he tried to keep the mood light.

 

“I mean it. The past is the past.”

 

Dean nodded. “I agree, but you need to know why…you need to know why we can’t be together yet.”

 

“What do you mean we can’t be together yet?” Castiel started to move out of his lap. “Why do you keep pushing me away?”

 

Dean grabbed his thighs and tried to hold him there. “I’m trying to tell you. Please, just listen!”

 

Castiel nodded. “Okay.”

 

“Benny was—is—a vampire. He and I just sort of hit it off. Well, we were going pretty strong. He had gone through his Awakening and was doing really well, drinking donated blood, the whole works. And then his family…” Dean gulped. “His hive started having trouble. There was lots of in-fighting, and one guy made a bid for Alpha, then there was a huge fight. Benny sort of got in the middle of it and it ended up with him becoming the leader of the hive. Because of that, he felt he should choose a mate from among his species, and he broke up with me.”

 

“Wow,” Castiel breathed. “Wow, that was…he was an idiot for letting you go.”

 

Dean tried to give him a cheeky smile. “His loss, your gain?”

 

Castiel shook his head. “So you think I’m going to come through my Awakening and just…give you up?”

 

“I’m just saying it’s happened, and I don’t want to get in your way. I don’t want you to—“

 

Castiel put his fingers against Dean’s mouth. “Shut up, Dean. Don’t do this. You and I, we have something here, and if I start thinking about leaving, then I have a right to know that it’s going to hurt you!”

 

“I wouldn’t want to get in your way—“

 

Castiel held his face and forced him to look directly at him. “Get in my way, Dean. You have a right to get in my way. If you like me, then you need to come and get me and not try and martyr yourself like you’re doing me some kind of favor.”

 

Dean had enough. He started trying to dislodge the Angel from his lap, but Castiel was stronger somehow and overpowered him.

 

“Let me go!”

 

“No, I’m not letting you go!” Castiel managed to grab his wrists and hold him down, his strength more than Dean could fight against. How was he doing this? “You have the right to tell me you want me and expect it to _mean_ something to me, Dean.”

 

Dean turned his head away, not wanting to see the earnest expression he knew was on Castiel’s face. He wanted to trust him. He wanted to believe that Castiel would choose him. Dean’s track record said otherwise, though. They all left. They always left. It was just something about him that made them leave.

 

Castiel let go of his wrists and lay down next to him. Dean’s arm curled around Castiel’s shoulders of its own volition. He could get up and leave, go to his own room and shut out the Angel. But he didn’t. His head knew that Castiel would not stick around, but his heart seemed to want to hope. Like a fool, he held on tight to that little ray of hope.

 

}O{

 

Castiel woke up in Dean’s arms. They had slept together for comfort more than anything, not touching other than to hold each other and share a few sweet kisses.

 

In the quiet of the early dawn, before Dean awoke, he was able to think over everything they had said the night before, and he realized that he was going to have to prove to Dean that he would still be there tomorrow and the next day, and the day after that, and every day after that until the end of time. The only way he could do that was to just be there, no matter what, no matter how hard he might try to push him away. Castiel felt he was up to the challenge.

 

He rolled onto his back and smiled as Dean followed his movements, snuggling against his side.

 

“You awake?” he asked, running his fingertips over the soft hair currently tickling his shoulder.

 

“Sht’p,” was the sleepy reply.

 

Castiel tightened his arms around Dean’s shoulders and enjoyed the opportunity to hold him. He’d had no idea that the Hunter could be such a huge cuddler. The night he’d lain down with Castiel after the nightmare, he’d just patted Castiel’s back for a while, then fallen asleep on the other side of the bed. Now his long, heavy, muscular length was laying half on top of Castiel, and one of his legs was slotted between both of Castiel’s. Castiel stroked his fingers lightly over Dean’s arm where it was flung over his chest and clasped his hand, lightly lacing their fingers together. To his surprise, Dean brought Castiel’s hand to his mouth and kissed it, then went back to hugging him, their fingers still entwined. A smile ghosted over Castiel’s lips at that, and he closed his eyes again, supposing that just laying there and enjoying Dean’s warmth against him was good enough for anything.

 

When he woke up again, Dean was lying beside him, propped up on an elbow, chin in his hand, watching Castiel with a smile playing around his lips. Castiel returned the smile, reaching up to trace Dean’s soft lips with his fingers. Dean opened his mouth and bit down on one playfully, making Castiel laugh, then leaned forward and kissed him. They both had morning breath, but Castiel didn’t care. He’d kiss Dean’s lips if they were covered in dirt or worse.

 

“Hi,” Castiel breathed against Dean’s lips.

 

“Hi back. You ready for breakfast now that it isn’t the ass-crack of dawn?”

 

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

 

They showered and dressed in their separate rooms, then met at the stairs, descending together. In the kitchen, Adam was frowning at a cookbook and holding an egg in one hand.

 

“Whoa, whoa, what do you think you’re doing?” Dean asked, rushing to his brother and grabbing the egg.

 

“I was going to cook you breakfast, asshat.” Adam stuck his tongue out at his brother, then turned to Castiel. “Good morning, Cas.”

 

“Hello, Adam. I thought you were still staying with Sam and his girl?”

 

Adam shuddered. “You two are quieter.”

 

Dean shoved his brother away from the table. “There was nothing to be quiet about, jackass.”

 

“Oh,” Adam said, blushing. He looked so uncomfortable and clearly had a thousand questions running through his head, but simply sat down in a chair and frowned instead.

 

Castiel sat next to him and nudged his shoulder. He hadn’t really had a chance to talk to Adam at all, so he looked forward to a chance to help the kid out of a predicament. “Have you ever known someone going through an Awakening, Adam?”

 

Adam nodded. “Yeah. My best friend in high school. He’s a demi-god. Son of Aries. Apparently he’s had three prior lives, and he died horrifically in each of them.”

 

“Are you two still friends?”

 

“Yeah, we’re actually going to hang out when I come home next weekend.”

 

Castiel smiled. So there were people who went through Awakenings and still retained old friendships. He turned to look at Dean, who was breaking eggs over a bowl, but only got a frown in return. Dean apparently knew what he was thinking, but it didn’t seem to make him happy. Castiel frowned back, making Dean startle a little, then go back to his batter mixing, shaking his head slightly. Whether it was at himself or Castiel was unclear.

 

Castiel turned back to Adam who was watching him with a bemused expression. Adam pointed his eyes to Dean, then rolled them and gave a shake of his head and a smirk while mouthing the word “Idiot.” Castiel smiled in response.

 

Castiel decided to ignore Dean while he prepared breakfast. His plan to be there for the Human—his potential boyfriend—was going to entail a lot more than simply hanging around all day. He had to get Adam and Sam and even Jess (though he hadn’t met her yet) on his side, and doing that meant getting to know them. He’d already started with Sam, so now it was time to learn all about Adam Winchester. They talked about how hard it was on Adam to be the youngest, to have two brothers who treated him like a perpetual baby (which earned him a snort and a sippy cup of milk from Dean, who refused to say where he procured said sippy cup from), how hard it was growing up without a mom (silence from Dean during that), but then Adam took the time to praise Dean’s brotherly skills, pointing out how he was always there for him through thick and thin and how Dean had encouraged him to go for his dream of being a vascular surgeon and how Dean and Sam were paying for everything even though Adam didn’t want them to.

 

“You’ll be taking care of us in our old age,” Dean teased. “That’s how you’ll pay us back when you’re a rich and famous surgeon.”

 

Adam snorted. “With the high-fat, high-calorie, high-carb diet you eat, Dean, you’ll be lucky to make it to forty-five years old,” he shot back. “Doesn’t sound like you’re going to be making good on your investment.”

 

“Die young, make a pretty corpse,” Dean smiled, piling pancakes onto a plate and setting them down in front of Castiel. Castiel looked up as Dean leaned over him and their eyes met for a long moment. Dean leaned down and kissed his forehead before turning back to the stove. Castiel watched him for a moment before turning back to Adam who looked both amused and wistful.

 

Castiel shot Adam an apologetic look before turning his attention to his pancakes.

 

They were eating breakfast and talking companionably about Adam’s plans to join a fraternity when someone frantically started pounding on the kitchen door.

 

“Dean Henry Winchester, I know you’re in there!” a woman’s voice rang out sharply.

 

Dean looked alarmed and opened the door quickly. “Missouri, what’s—“

 

A small African-American woman pushed her way into the house, not sparing a glance at anyone other than Dean. She was slightly out of breath and her eyes were wide with concern. “No time, Dean! No time! Jessica! She’s in trouble at her house. You have to go now and take Castiel and Adam with you, and you mustn’t be afraid of what you must do. That’s all I know!”

 

Dean nodded and Castiel opened his mouth to ask how this woman knew what his name was, but she started pushing his shoulder before he could.

 

“Don’t you hear me, boy?” she asked Castiel sharply. “You need to go now!”

 

Dean grabbed Castiel by the arm and started practically dragging him out of the house. “C’mon, if Missouri says it’s trouble, then it’s trouble.”

 

They were in the car in seconds, sitting tensely with worry.

 

“Missouri is a Seer,” Adam said. “Not like Sam, she can have visions at any time, and she can read your mind if she wants to.”

 

“Yeah, there aren’t many like her,” Dean agreed, taking a corner so fast that both Castiel and Adam slid across their seats. Adam ended up on the other side of the backseat and Castiel ended up tucked tightly against Dean. He moved away from the Hunter reluctantly, earning a slight flicker of the eye from Dean. In the backseat, Adam uttered a curse and stared balefully at his phone. He’d been trying to call Sam or Jess to no avail.

 

“Try Bobby,” Dean commanded, skittering another corner, this one slamming Castiel against the passenger door. Dean seemed to be the only one in the car not effected by the centrifugal forces he was causing.

 

“Bobby!” Adam shouted into the phone. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you are. Yes sir, I know how early you went to—Bobby, you know I wouldn’t be calling if it weren’t important!” Castiel glanced to the backseat and found Adam holding his head in one hand. “All I know is that Missouri told us Jess is in trouble and we’re on our way there now. Yeah, I can’t reach her or—we’re here now. Just please, we might need you.”

 

He disengaged the phone and threw it down on the seat, hopping out of the car before it even properly stopped moving. Castiel exited more slowly and watched with morbid fascination while Dean and Adam pulled an arsenal from the trunk.

 

“What about him?” Adam muttered, sheathing a knife in his belt.

 

“He’s got mojo of his own,” Dean said, pulling the magazine from his gun and knocking it a few times against the handle before loading it back in, releasing the safety, and cocking it. “Let’s go. Don’t be afraid to do what you have to do,” he shook his head. “I hate ominous sounding shit like that.”

 

Castiel gulped at Dean uncertainly. “Dean, if I…try and kill me before I go Avenging Angel, okay?”

 

Dean frowned and pulled Castiel against him. “Don’t be afraid of what you have to do,” the Hunter said gently before giving his cheek a peck. “C’mon, let’s go find out what’s got Jess.”

 

They literally broke the door down. Dean didn’t even try the handle to see if it was unlocked, he just kicked the door and it fell forward. He and Adam stalked in, brandishing their guns, following the sound of a menacing voice.

 

“…abomination inside of you, did you? You think because you spread your thighs for him like a good little whore that you get to keep him? That you get to undermine everything that I have been trying to do for him? My life blood flows through his veins and he will be so much more than the sum of his breeding, and I can’t have you distracting him from his purpose!”

 

They rounded on the kitchen to the sound of flesh meeting flesh and a woman whimpering “No!” over and over again between sobs.

 

“Filthy bitch! You’ve tainted—“

 

“Azazel!” Dean shouted hotly when they finally found the source of all the noise.

 

A large fairy had a beautiful woman—the woman from the pictures on Dean’s mantel, Jess, presumably—against the wall with his forearm at her neck. His other hand was at her belly. She was crying hard and her face was pink from being slapped. A bruise was forming on one cheek.

 

“This isn’t your concern, Dean. This is about Sammy.”

 

Dean actually growled. “How many times do we have to tell you that Sammy isn’t your child?”

 

Azazel dropped Jess and she crumpled to the floor, clutching her stomach. The Fairy stalked slowly towards Dean, his eyes glowing yellow. “Your brother is more my child than he is yours, Dean-o. It burns you up, doesn’t it? Knowing that my blood flows in his veins!”

 

Dean leveled his pistol on Azazel, steadying it with both hands. “Sam chose his family,” Dean said with finality. “He’s heard your pitch a million and one times, and he is never, ever going to accept your gift. Give up before it’s too late.”

 

Azazel smiled a sickeningly sweet smile, his teeth too big and white, his jaw too well defined. He looked almost like a cartoon of a man. “That was before a group of Lamia broke into his house and murdered his girlfriend, his poor, innocent unborn son, and his two brothers.”

 

“Hey, Azazel!”

 

The Fairy turned to Adam, who he had been ignoring for far too long, and got hit with a faceful of sugar.

 

“Dammit!” he roared. “Look what you did you little shit-faced throwback!”

 

Adam nodded to Dean as Azazel bent and started counting the grains of sugar, collecting them in his hand as Adam and Dean started some strange ritual. Castiel turned his attention to Jess, who was still whimpering and holding her belly while lying on the floor in the fetal position. Castiel was surprised to note that he heard not just her elevated heartrate, but the struggling beat of something much tinier, more vulnerable.

 

…innocent unborn son…

 

With sickening realization, Castiel put the Fairy’s words in context. Jess was having a miscarriage! She was pregnant with Sam’s baby, and…

 

He rushed to her side and cradled her head in his lap, placing his hand over her perfectly flat belly. He got a flash in his head of a golden Angel noticing a large cut on Castiel’s leg. He’d gotten it in sword training when Uriel struck him while their instructor’s back was turned. The Angel scooped him up from behind, his hands behind Castiel’s knees as he held the fledgling in front of him in a sitting position.

 

“What happened to you, little brother?” the Angel asked in a smooth voice.

 

Castiel sniffed. “U-uriel cut me,” he whimpered.

 

“There there, little one. It’s not so bad.”

 

Castiel looked up and back as the unknown Angel stroked his wild curls, then got suddenly shy. “Y-you’re Luthifer,” he stammered and sniffled. “I’m thorry for bothering you, Luthifer. Mithtreth Naomi thays we muthn’t—“ 

 

“There there, little one,” Lucifer soothed, still petting him. “Don’t worry about me. Let’s show you how to heal yourself, okay?”

 

“B-but I don’t have any powerth yet!”

 

“Shhhh,” Lucifer crooned, lifting the hurt leg. “I won’t let you get hurt. You’re Castiel, right?”

 

Castiel nodded. Lucifer pronounced his name strangely, “Cas-chell” instead of “Cas-tee-el.”

 

“Well, listen, Castiel. We have Grace within us, and it does as we tell it to do. Now close your eyes and tell your Grace to go into your cut. It will listen.”

 

Castiel obediently closed his eyes, surprised to find his Grace there and waiting for him to direct it. He showed it his cut and felt the pain and the wound leave. He peaked under one eyelid and gasped at his smooth, sun-browned leg, unblemished by any cuts or bruises.

 

“Thank you, Luthifer!” he cried, turning to hug the Archangel, who chuckled deep in his chest.

 

“You’re welcome, little one,” Lucifer said fondly, giving Castiel’s hair one last comb-through with his fingers.

 

He hefted Castiel to the ground and went off, waving happily, the Light following him and glowing off of his tunic and golden hair, his wings fanning open as they fell in pairs down his spine. Away from them were two of the other Archangels, Michael with his dark hair and long purple cape over his tunic, and Gabriel, his red cape skewed over one shoulder, tunic hitching up at one knee. Castiel barely had a chance to glance at Gabriel’s brassy red hair before he was snapped back to the present.

 

“I know what to do,” he told Jess, his hands stroking through her hair the way Lucifer’s had stroked through his. “You’ll be all right, Jessica.”

 

Large brown eyes stared back at him, frightened but trusting. She gave him a nod, and he closed his eyes, feeling his Grace just below the surface, like his wings, right there. He showed the Grace the fetus, and he felt it go out of him and into the child, surrounding it, strengthening it, repairing where it had started pulling away from its life force. Castiel remembered how it had felt with Lucifer when his wound had healed, and pulled away from the fetus before it became too much of a drain on his Grace, and came back to himself, somewhat proud that he was still conscious. Jess was still staring at him, her mouth opened in an “O” of surprise. And then something dark and red splashed onto her forehead and she sat up quickly, reaching out for him as he fell into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, baby lisping Castiel is killing me, he's so cute! I'm just imagining him with missing front teeth and he's so cute and cuddly and Lucifer just wants to take him home with him. (Cassifer? What Cassifer? Shut up. >_>)


	8. Chapter 8

_Castiel and Balthazar were standing by the practice arena while Lucifer and Michael circled each other. Across from them, Azrael, Gabriel and Rafael watched and spoke with each other, their many sets of wings standing out in bright reds, golds, and purples, contrasting with the cool blues of the Seraphim._

_“He is beautiful,” Balthazar lamented. “Is he not perfection, Cassie?”_

_Castiel had to agree that Lucifer was beautiful. “Yes, Balthazar. He is beautiful.”_

_“I am in love with him.”_

_Castiel wrapped his arm around his brother. “I know, dear one.”_

_Michael and Lucifer clashed swords over and over. Sometimes Lucifer had the upper hand, sometimes Michael, though Michael of course won in the end. He was the leader of God’s Army, after all. If Lucifer had been able to defeat him, he’d be forced to give up his place._

_It had been a few eons since Castiel’s first encounter with Lucifer, though neither he nor the Archangel had ever forgotten. They always exchanged kind nods when they crossed paths, and more than once, Lucifer had outright smiled at Castiel. Lately, though, Lucifer had taken to approaching Castiel while he was with Balthazar, asking Castiel a few questions, then turning his full attention to Castiel’s handsome blonde brother._

_Castiel wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t make him jealous. He held a bit of hero worship for Lucifer, and a crush had simply been inevitable. It didn’t help that Lucifer was beautiful and golden with warm green eyes the color of pond water when the light bounced and danced off of it. His wings were just the same, deep green with gold accents, sparkling and shining like the Light Bearer he was named to be._

_“I want to mate with him,” Balthazar whispered. “I ache for it, Cassie. I shall die if I do not.”_

_The pain in his voice let Castiel know that his own pain was nothing to his brother’s. “I know, Bal.”_

_“But what if…what if he doesn’t love me as I love him?”_

_The two Archangels in the ring halted their dance of swords and Lucifer’s eye was drawn to the two young Seraphim that were watching him so intently. His eyes were warm and friendly for Castiel, but when they moved to Balthazar, they took on a decidedly different tone._

_“I do not believe you have to worry about that,” Castiel said sadly, laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder as he turned to walk away. He didn’t want to be there so that Lucifer could ignore him in favor of his closest friend and brother that day. He felt a little too sad and jealous for that at the moment. “I shall see you later, dearest,” he said over his shoulder. “Be good.”_

_Balthazar smiled. “I am always good, darling.”_

 

Castiel gasped and awoke, disoriented and choking on something. His head throbbed with each pulse of his heartbeat, and he felt like it might explode.

 

“Easy,” someone said kindly, helping him sit up. Something wet trickled down his upper lip. “Ooh, here…”

 

Kleenex were shoved into his hands and he bowed his face towards them, choking as a huge blood clot came slithering out of his nose like some slimy, living entity.

 

“Ugh, ew, careful,” the same voice said. Castiel’s head swam as he tried to make sense of his surroundings and those same hands took his soiled Kleenex.

 

“He does not love me,” Castiel said forlornly. “He-he does not.”

 

“Shhhh, Cas,” the voice said, and a warm arm moved around his shoulder. “Of course he loves you. Any idiot could see that he loves you.”

 

Fresh Kleenex were pressed into his hand and he dropped his head forward onto them, letting the blood flow freely from his nose.

 

“Adam, get me an ice pack.”

 

Sam. He was with Sam and he was lying on a bed. His head throbbed and blood wouldn’t stop leaking from his nose. He recalled the events of the morning and started to worry about Jess.

 

“Jess?” Castiel asked.

 

“She’s fine. Shit, Cas,” Sam rasped out. “We didn’t even know…but she said you…”

 

Castiel looked up from his Kleenex and nodded miserably, tears still falling from his eyes. “I am glad she is well,” he whispered hoarsely. “Your child should be fine.”

 

“He’s awake?” Dean asked, rushing into the room and kneeling before Castiel, his hands going to Castiel’s face. “You scared me! How are you--?”

 

Castiel shook his head, taking Dean’s hands and squeezing them. “I ab fide, Dead. I healed, I did dot destroy. Dere was do chance of be losing byself to vengeandce.”

 

Dean crawled onto the bed with Castiel and held him close. Adam came with the ice pack and Dean applied it to the back of Castiel’s head. Castiel smiled to himself, enjoying the feel of Dean’s chest against his face. However nice it was, though, it was apparent after only a few minutes that neither the headache nor the bleeding would be dissipating any time soon, and he reluctantly lifted his head from its resting place.

 

“Dead, I ab afraid dat I ab out of power for de tibe beig and caddot heal byself. I deed you to call Baltazar or Lucifer to heal be.”

 

Dean looked concerned, frightened, and just a bit apprehensive, but as he switched out the Kleenex again, it was painfully obvious that they needed more than ice packs and aspirin, so he grabbed his phone and made the call.

 

Lucifer and Balthazar both flew the minute Dean hung up the phone, not bothering to put away their wings as they burst into the room, all concerned energy and fear.  

 

“Cassie!” Balthazar shouted, rushing to him and pulling him from Dean’s arms. “Father, this does not look good. What did you _do_?”

 

Dean explained in a short manner of time, and Lucifer decided the best course of action was to start berating the Hunter.

 

“What did I tell you? He could be dead by now, you idiot!”

 

Castiel tugged on Lucifer’s sleeve. “Please, Lucy. I bade de choice to do it.”

 

Lucifer knelt next to the bed and took Castiel’s face in his hands, healing him as he caressed him lightly. “You called me Lucy,” he remarked.

 

Castiel nodded. “I remembered some things about us, brother.”

 

Lucifer rubbed his thumb over Castiel’s cheekbone. “You’re coming back to me,” he said with a smile. “I’m so happy.”

 

Castiel frowned. “Lucifer, I’m…I’m sorry. For the way I behaved when…Balthazar? I did not mean…”

 

Both Angels crowded Dean away from Castiel and put their arms around them, making the hunter look decidedly unhappy.

 

“Well, I guess I’ll just leave the three of you alone,” he grumbled, drawing Castiel’s attention away from his friends.

 

“Wait, Dean…”

 

Dean shook his head. “It’s okay, they’re your—“

 

He was cut off by Castiel standing, grabbing his shirt, and hauling him down for a kiss. “Forgive me, Dean, but I will not allow you to use this as an excuse to push me away. My brothers and I have much history together, and require some time to work out some problems that we left each other with several hundred years ago, but that does not change the way I feel about you in the slightest.”

 

Dean’s eyes opened wide. “Why are you talking like friggin’ Shakespeare, man?”

 

Balthazar and Lucifer chuckled behind them. Castiel shot them both a frown, then turned back to his Hunter. “Yes, I have been informed for many eons that my way of speaking is rather formal.”

 

Lucifer let out an outright laugh. “You should have heard him when he was a fledgling,” he snickered. In a low, gravelly voice, the Archangel said, “Luthifer, Joshua hath thent me to you that I might train at your thide.” He and Balthazar exchanged a mirthful look. “It was so adorable, his little face _so very_ serious and his voice so low, but the tiniest little lisp you could imagine.”

 

Balthazar nodded. “Naomi would call on him in class, I swear, so that she could hear him say, ‘The wayth of the Father are love, truth and obedienth.”

 

Castiel just barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. “I am happy my speech impediment was so amusing to you both.”

 

“Oh, don’t be like that, darling,” Balthazar said. “You were adorable. We loved you.”

 

Castiel felt an ages-old ache in his chest and he turned to his friend, a rueful smile twisting his lips. Balthazar looked down, ashamed, and Lucifer looked sad. Dean, as though sensing the change in atmosphere, cleared his throat.

 

“Well, I…guess I should leave the three of you to reminisce for a while, huh?”

 

Castiel caressed his cheek and smiled softly. “Yes, my love. We have a few items to discuss, but we shall be done soon. Then you and I shall speak.”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Great. I’m dating _Romeo_.”

 

“Guess that makes you Juliette,” Balthazar said gleefully. “You would look awfully pretty in maroon velvet, you know.”

 

Dean shot the Angel a look, then left the room and closed the door, giving Castiel and his brothers some privacy.

 

“Balthazar, I would appreciate it if you would not goad my mate.”

 

“He’s such an easy target, though.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes at Balthazar. “Please, can we not argue?”

 

Balthazar pulled Castiel into a full-body hug. “I told you we were friends once.”

 

Castiel pulled out from the hug. “Are we no longer?”

 

“Of course we are,” Balthazar assured him. “I have never stopped being your friend.”

 

Castiel looked from him to Lucifer. “I said many things to both of you. Things that I regretted the minute they left my mouth.”

 

“They are forgot,” Lucifer promised. “How much do you remember?”

 

Castiel sat back down on the bed. He was still very weary and drained, and he felt hungry. “I remember bits and pieces. I remember you helped me heal myself one day when I was very young, and then I remember Balthazar and you falling in love and…and I remember when you came to me for my blessing.” He looked down, ashamed of the words he had spoken to Lucifer. He had been bitter and hurt that the Archangel hadn’t looked to him, but to his friend instead.

 

Lucifer lifted Castiel’s chin with his fingers. “Castiel, let us forget it. Please, I would rather have you as my friend now, back in the flock, than out there without us. I have always loved you and so has Balthazar. Not the love that you maybe wanted me to have for you, but I think you no longer feel that way?”

 

Castiel nodded. “I have not felt that way for quite some time, long before I came here to this earth. I don’t really know how I know, but I do. I feel it. My memories are returning, but slowly.” He put his head down and Balthazar reached out to touch him, healing the headache that was threatening to return.

 

“He needs food and rest,” Balthazar said. “I will tell Dean.”

 

Lucifer frowned. “There are a great many things I would like to tell Dean.”

 

Castiel reached out his hand and grabbed Lucifer’s forearm. “Please, Lu. He is a good man, and he cares for me. He and I have spoken of many things, and I know that he would not willingly hurt me. We were told by a Seer that I should not be afraid of my power, and I wasn’t. I made the choice, Dean was busy banishing the Fairy.”

 

“Very well,” Lucifer nodded. “I will merely warn him with bodily harm should he hurt you. It is my duty as your brother and your protector.”

 

Castiel smiled. “And my General.”

 

 

 

}O{

 

Dean had been afraid of a lot of things. That Castiel would leave with Balthazar and Lucifer, that he was in some sort of three-way relationship with them and he wouldn’t want Dean anymore, and most absurdly, that he would never lean against Dean again for comfort. Dean didn’t really know why he liked it when Castiel rested his head against his shoulder, he just did.  It appeared that the first of his fears were unfounded, however, because Lucifer and Balthazar took off shortly after Dean relocated everyone back to his place.

 

Jessica, it turned out, wasn’t comfortable staying at their apartment for the night, and maybe even for longer, so Dean suggested that she and Sam come home with him. Both Sam and Jess seemed happy about that, and not for the first time, Dean wondered about converting the attic into a little apartment for his brother. He hated having Sammy so far away (even if it was just a few blocks), and with the new baby, well, it made sense to have them close by. Dean was even thinking that it would make more sense to let Sam have the run of the second floor, and he and Castiel could take the attic themselves.

 

Of course, he had already started thinking about Castiel as a permanent fixture at his house. The Angel hadn’t mentioned moving back to his apartment, and as far as Dean knew, even Lucifer and Balthazar hadn’t brought it up yet. If anything, the Archangel and his mate were behaving as though Castiel and Dean were a sure thing. How they could be so confident was beyond him, but there it was. Their confidence also gave him confidence, so when Lucifer and Balthazar took their leave and Castiel stayed behind, Dean allowed the tiny little grain of hope in his chest to blossom just the smallest bit.

 

The second fear was assuaged when as they left, they did little more than give Castiel brotherly hugs of the sort that Dean might share with Sam or Adam, combined with a threat from Lucifer that if Dean ever hurt Castiel in any way, Lucifer would be sure that Dean was never heard from again, led Dean to believe that there was nothing to worry about there. They had been friends, brothers, as Castiel had said.

 

After that, Dean ordered a pizza and he and his brothers, Cas and Jess sat around the kitchen table to eat it. Without waiting for an invitation, Castiel moved his chair close to Dean’s and leaned his head against his shoulder, looking up at him with those big, blue eyes, opening his mouth like a baby bird for Dean to feed him. Dean smiled at that and held a slice to his lips, loving the way Castiel’s hand curled around his wrist and the way his mouth moved around the pizza.

 

“Oh, wow,” Jess cooed. “It’s just as cute as you said it is!”

 

“Yeah,” Sam said dryly. “So cute.”

 

Dean shot him a look, but then Castiel nestled even closer into his side and kissed his shoulder, and Dean decided he didn’t care how cute he looked. Unfortunately by the time they were done eating, Castiel looked like he was about to drop from sheer exhaustion. Dean couldn’t forget the last incident and the dreams Castiel had been plagued with following it, so he showed the Angel to his room so that he could put Sam and Jess in the guest room. It used to be Sam’s room back in the day, but Sam had taken most of his furniture and personal belongings when he left for his own apartment, so very little of Sam’s childhood remained. Just the peeling wallpaper and an Asia poster that he’d had framed for some reason. Dean had every intention of putting fresh sheets on the bed, but Jess and Sam seemed to think he should be elsewhere.

 

“We can change the sheets ourselves,” Sam pointed out. “This is my house, too, you know.”

 

When Dean looked like he was going to object, Jess stepped in. “Castiel looks like death warmed over. Go take care of him. We can look after ourselves.”

 

Dean agreed reluctantly, but only because he was very concerned about Castiel.

 

He found the Angel sitting on the side of the bed, just staring into nothing. When his eyes lighted on Dean, a smiled played around his lips.

 

“Hello, Dean.”

 

“Hey, Cas. You need some help?”

 

In answer, the Angel raised both arms so that Dean could slip his shirt over his head for him.

 

“You’re such a baby,” Dean teased. “I have to feed you and dress you. Do you need me to shower you off, too?”

 

Castiel grabbed Dean’s shirt and pulled him down with more strength than Dean thought he possessed at the moment. “I may find that quite enjoyable,” he mused before kissing Dean so soundly that his toes actually curled.

 

He followed the inexorable pull on his collar until he was stretching out full length onto Castiel, enjoying the feel of the Angel’s long, lithe body beneath him. Dean opened his mouth against Castiel’s, sliding his tongue inside and exploring the soft heat, enjoying his taste and his feel. Castiel kept his hold on Dean’s collar with one hand and snaked his other hand up Dean’s shirt, his palm flat against Dean’s back, warm and exploratory, moving over as much as he could reach, pressing between his shoulder blades to bring them closer. Dean cradled Castiel’s head in his hands, stroking his thumbs over cheek bones, threading through soft, wild hair, caressing the back of his neck.

 

Eventually, Castiel’s hold loosened and he sagged back against the pillow. Dean continued to kiss him, rubbing his lips over the Angel’s chin, cheeks, lips, touching still, softly, not as insistent. The Angel was clearly drained, but Dean didn’t want to leave him just yet. It seemed that Castiel felt the same way.

 

“You will stay with me,” he commanded. “All night.”

 

Dean nodded. “If you want me to.”

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

Dean kissed him once more. “Then I’ll stay with you.”

 

Castiel sighed and closed his eyes, his arms dropping to his sides. Dean crawled off of him, realizing that the Angel was still wearing his jeans and boots.

 

“Baby,” he chided gently before removing the rest of their clothing, then moved them both beneath the covers and they fell into a deep, untroubled sleep.

 

As a Hunter, Dean only needed four hours of sleep, so when he awoke just after dawn, he was amazed that he had managed five. Usually he didn’t even try to sleep until sometime after two in the morning, so waking up feeling so good, having slept in for so long, and next to his sweet Angel, was better than anything he could think of.

 

He didn’t want to get up right away like he usually did. Not that he didn’t have anything to do; in fact, he knew he should troll through old Uncle Herschel’s journal for all of the information on Angels and mating with them that he could find, but Castiel had been so adamant that he stay last night and looked so beautiful when he was sleeping, that Dean didn’t have the heart to leave. Instead, he lay there and watched over his Angel until long after he heard the others stirring and the old cuckoo clock downstairs chimed seven.

 

Since it didn’t seem that Castiel would be getting up anytime soon (he hadn’t even changed position for over an hour), Dean felt safe to go downstairs and make him a little breakfast. Of course, the others would give him a hard time about it, but Dean just didn’t care. Let them say what they liked.

 

The kitchen was full, a sight that warmed his heart. Jess was manning the waffle iron and Sam was simmering blueberries with sugar to make syrup. Adam was wisely staying away from the action and drinking a cup of coffee at the table.

 

Jess frowned at him when he walked in. “If you give me grief for cooking while pregnant, I’ll beat your ass,” she warned.

 

Dean raised his hands in surrender. “I said nothing!”

 

She smiled and went back to the waffles while Dean started getting a tray set up for himself and Cas. Predictably, Adam and Sam started in on him.

 

“Breakfast in bed?” Adam smirked. “Was he _that_ good?”

 

“It’s not that he was that _good_ ,” Sam corrected, “it’s that _Dean_ was that bad.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Hur hur, assholes. I’ll have you know that Castiel is so beat from saving a certain Winchester: The Next Generation’s ass yesterday that he hasn’t even woken up yet. He’s pretty weak, so you can start feeling like jerks any time you please.”

 

Sam had the good sense to look abashed and Jess quickly plated two waffles and slapped golden butter on them while Adam went looking for a carafe for the coffee. Between the four of them, they had a tray put together in record time.

 

“Go feed your Angel,” Jess said with only partial mock-gravity. “And tell him again that I said thank you.” Jess seemed to think something over, then went to Dean and grabbed his arm. “And give him this,” then kissed him on the cheek. “You can improvise if you feel he needs more.”

 

Sam and Adam groaned at that, but Dean ignored them and went back to his bedroom. Castiel was tangled up in the sheets and curled around Dean’s pillow. Dean set the tray at the foot of the bed and gently started combing his fingers through Castiel’s hair, murmuring softly to him. “Wake up, buttercup. Sunshine and waffles are waiting for you.”

 

Castiel frowned, then opened an eye. “I dreamed you left me.”

 

“Just to get you breakfast,” Dean said softly. “Wake up and I’ll feed you.”

 

“I like it when you feed me,” Castiel admitted sheepishly as he sat up and adjusted pillows so he and Dean would be comfortable against the headboard.

 

Dean sat and adjusted the tray on his lap. “Good, because I like feeding you.”

 

Castiel reached a finger into the little pitcher of syrup and tasted it. “Hmm…sweet.”

 

Dean stared at his mouth for a second before swooping in to taste blueberries on those full lips. “Fuck you’re better than pie,” he breathed against Castiel’s mouth.

 

Castiel laughed. “Wow…that’s just the ultimate compliment coming from you.”

 

“Hey, there’s more where that came from! You know…just as soon as I think of them.”

 

“If you ever tell me I’m a better ride than your Impala, it will be the death of you,” Castiel threatened.

 

Dean looked hurt. “Like I would do that!” He started to cut up one of the waffles and added, “Like anything could ride as well as my baby,” earning him a well-aimed punch to his shoulder.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael shows up, and there are a few breadcrumbs of plot if you squint your eyes and tilt your head. I swear I know where I'm going with this story, but I'm really trying for a slow build and a slow plot unfurling. If I fail, oh well. I tried.

“They are so cute together, Raffie. I tell you, I’ve rarely seen two beings so very well suited to each other.”

 

“This is a great relief to you, I’m sure, Balthazar, considering your history.”

 

“It is true that his happiness alleviates some lingering feelings of guilt, but I find guilt tiresome and am truly happy for my Cassie.”

 

Michael sighed, his heart dropping as he heard Balthazar and Rafael discuss Castiel’s happiness with the Hunter. Michael had wanted Castiel for his mate since he had known him in Heaven. Michael didn’t harbor any deep feelings for the Seraph; it was more a tactical advantage. Castiel was strong, steady, intelligent, and a natural leader. Michael and Castiel combined would be a force unto themselves. With the absence of the Father, Heaven needed leadership, and Michael had always been convinced that Castiel would help provide that.

 

Michael’s feelings revolted against the union of the Hunter and Castiel. It wasn’t just that Michael wanted Castiel for his own, it was that it seemed like such a waste of his abilities. Castiel would hunt for the rest of Dean’s life, and then they would go to the part of Heaven where soul mates went. That would be the sad end of Castiel’s lifetime of training. If the Father were still alive, he might reimbody both Castiel and Dean so that they could continue to Hunt and be useful to Heaven, but no one had seen Him in an age.

 

Could Castiel be happy with such a meager existence? And why would Balthazar, the one who loved Castiel best and called him brother, be happy for him? It was beyond Michael. Utterly beyond. He had no time for such frivolities as love. With another Angel, perhaps, but he did not see the point of trying with a Human, and certainly not a Hunter.

 

Of course, if Castiel was truly happy, he supposed he must be happy for him. Michael supposed he could go and find Castiel to try and see if he was happy. Maybe then he could understand. Resolved, Michael grabbed his jacket and decided to head to The Roadhouse. If Balthazar was anything to go by, Castiel and Dean could be found there most nights.

 

It took him the better part of the week to finally work up his courage to get there.

 

}O{

 

The Roadhouse was everything Michael assumed it would be. Smelly, noisy, horrid lighting, pool tables with dubious stains, and patrons of the most unseemly sort. How could Castiel possibly find this dump inviting? And he had come here on his own before his Awakening had even started. Michael decided that Castiel was stronger than he had originally believed him to be.

 

He approached the bar and found a set next to a young man with golden hair and kind blue-green eyes. The boy looked surprised to see him, but gave him a warm smile and recommended the stout brunette, which was apparently a microbrew that the proprietress made herself.

 

“I’m Adam, by the way,” the boy said, holding out his hand.

 

Michael regarded him for several moments before shaking the proffered hand. “Michael.”

 

Adam’s eyes grew wider and Michael had to hand it to him; he apparently knew his Angel lore. Adam made no comments either way, though, and went back to his beer and fries, his eyes straying every now and then to the back of the room. Michael followed his line of sight and saw, much to his surprise and dismay, Castiel practically glued to the side of Dean Winchester, both of them sharing a meal from the same plate, smiling, talking, and kissing every now and then.

 

“It ought to be outlawed, huh?” Adam asked with an ironic laugh. “I mean, there’s only so much schmoop you can take in one sitting.”

 

Michael narrowed his eyes at the boy. Was he jealous of Dean or Castiel? Or both? Would he try and make trouble for them? Michael might not be happy with Castiel’s choice, but he wasn’t about to make trouble if the Seraph was truly happy.

 

“Some people might say they’re cute,” Michael said, trying to sound nonchalant. He supposed they did look cute.

 

Adam laughed and turned away from the couple. “So what brings you in here?”

 

Michael looked around the bar again, thinking that question over. “I suppose I just wanted to see what it was all about.” That was oblique enough.

 

The bartender came by and gave Michael another bottle and took away Adam’s glass, replacing it with water. “Hey!” Adam protested.

 

The bartender shrugged. “I’m cutting you off. You drove yourself here, and I won’t have you wrap your car around a tree on the way home.”

 

Adam stuck his tongue out, earning a slap to the back of his head.

 

“They’re rather familiar here,” Michael remarked when the hulking man disappeared to the other side of the bar.

 

“Yeah, especially when they’re your older brother,” Adam agreed.

 

“Ah, I see.”

 

They sat in silence for several minutes. Michael nursed his drink and Adam sipped at his beer.

 

“Look,” Adam said, “you wanna get out of here?”

 

Michael almost choked. Was the boy actually propositioning him? That hadn’t happened in…about thirty years, come to think of it. He looked back at Dean and Castiel, who were staring deeply into each other’s eyes stupidly.

 

“Yeah,” he said. “I do, actually. I’d love to get out of here.”

 

}O{

 

Adam’s house was large and a little mouldy, but it was the sort of place that Michael expected from a Hunter, and he was fairly certain Adam was a Hunter. He had all the earmarks from his drab fashion of Army/Navy surplus jackets and boots to the way he seemed to watch his surroundings while managing to stay focused on Michael.

 

Inside the house, the boy led him up the stairs and all the way down the hall to the last room. Michael waited until he turned on the light and closed the door before gently pressing Adam against the nearest wall and kissing him soundly. It had been far, far too long since he’d enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh, and he intended to make this last for however long Adam wanted it, whether all night or just an hour.

 

Adam was trembling as Michael laid a hand on his cheek and gently kissed the opposite. Then he moved his lips gently over Adam’s, parting them and taking first the top and then the bottom into his mouth. Adam tasted like alcohol, but not enough to impair his judgment.

 

Slowly and carefully, Michael let his hands wander to Adam’s shoulders and opened his jacket, letting it fall away, the rustle of the fabric and their breathing the only sound in the small room. Adam placed his palms on Michael’s chest and looked up at him with big, clear, blue eyes. They weren’t the eyes that Michael had determined to fall in love with over a thousand years prior. There was no innocence behind them. But they were beautiful eyes, wide and guileless, trusting and open. Michael could truly read Adam’s very soul in them and he found nothing wrong or reprehensible. He was exactly who and what he said he was, and Michael felt something profound there. He wanted to take care of this boy. Even if it was only for the one night, he wanted to show him a part of himself that he had never shown to another living soul.

 

They fell into the bed. It was a small bed, a clear throwback from Adam’s younger years, but they didn’t need space when they were clinging to each other so tightly. Clothes peeled away like thick skin, baring themselves to each other, each touch tender and firm, no hesitation or regret.

 

Afterwards, Michael held Adam against his chest, their legs entwined, breathing labored and shallow.

 

}O{

 

There was a profound absence of Adam in the morning at breakfast, a change that made Dean frown and Sam look slightly gleeful at.

 

“I think that little shit took off before the rest of us woke up,” Dean grumbled. “His duffle’s gone and his bed was made.”

 

“He’s a grown man,” Sam reminded him.

 

“It was his last morning before he went back to school,” Dean groused as he flipped pancakes. “You’d think he could have said goodbye properly.”

 

“He comes home almost every weekend, and it’s been a while since Adam’s been with anyone other than family,” Sam reasoned. “I’m glad he went and had fun. Remember when I was at Stanford, and you were always giving me grief for not letting loose more?”

 

Dean shrugged as though his double-standards made perfect sense, but Castiel smiled at Dean’s obvious upset. It was as though Castiel understood that Dean had obviously wanted Sam to be happy and had known that he was studying too hard and too long and worrying too much and had just wanted him to be happy. Conversely with Adam, Dean was afraid that he was pulling away from the family a little too much, spending too much time away, taking too many weekends at school and needed the anchor of his family to keep him grounded. Castiel wasn’t sure how he was getting all of that from Dean’s expression, his furious pancake flipping and the set of his shoulders, he just knew that he was. He was understanding Dean. They were starting to bond.

 

Without thinking about it too hard, Castiel stood up from the table and slid up behind Dean, rubbing his hands up underneath his shirt and splaying his palms over his chest and kissed the back of his neck. “Adam stayed with you and Sam for a good portion of the weekend, Dean, and it was a very full weekend. Think of everything that happened since he got here…and he didn’t have any classes yesterday, so he stayed through Monday when he could have gone back to his dorm Sunday night.”

 

Dean leaned back into his embrace and Castiel felt as though he had won something special because of that. They were growing closer and closer, and Castiel liked it. He wondered if Dean could read his moods now too.

 

“Yeah, I know,” the Hunter said gruffly, plating up a tall stack. “Here, take this to the little mother. Baby Winchester needs his strength.”

 

Castiel smiled knowingly at Jess as he set the stack in front of her. Jess in turn mouthed the words “You two are adorable” to him with a little eye roll and a knowing smile.

 

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Dean asked the room at large. “Sam’s gotta go to work, I’ve gotta check in at the office, Jess, you gotta work, sweetheart?”

 

Jess nodded. “Yes, and I have a doctor’s appointment after work to confirm the pregnancy and to try and work out the conception date and all that.”

 

“I’m going to try and make it, baby,” Sam said, dropping a kiss to the top of her head as he set down his ubiquitous plate of cut up fruit. He seemed to not mind eating pancakes for breakfast as long as he had his fruit to counterbalance it.

 

“I think I should go to my old apartment,” Castiel said quietly. He knew Dean wouldn’t like that, but he was running out of clean underwear, and it was still his primary residence, after all. “I need to do laundry and…and…” Jess kicked him under the table, “…if Dean still wants me to stay here, I’ll need more clothes,” he finished, feeling his blush like a five-alarm fire. He desperately wanted Dean to say that he wanted him to stay. He was willing Dean to say it with every fiber of his being.

 

_Please, Dean, just say it._

 

Dean set a plate of pancakes in front of Castiel and swiveled his chair to face him, the scraping of wood making a horrible racket on the old linoleum tile. Castiel looked up into Dean’s wide, green eyes and gulped.

 

 _Just say it, Dean_ , he continued to silently beg. _Say it_ , he pleaded with his eyes.

 

“Stay,” Dean whispered.

 

Sam and Jess both let out their breaths in deep whooshes, but Castiel held eye contact with Dean. It felt like when you had a dream and something important was trailing on the edge of your consciousness and you needed to remember that thing but you couldn’t, and Castiel felt like in that moment that _something_ he couldn’t quite touch or see was happening between himself and Dean. He wanted to see it, to look at it and hold it and make it his, but he couldn’t make it stay still long enough.

 

He had said it, though.

 

“Then I’ll need more than just a few changes of clothes,” Castiel said softly.

 

Dean nodded. “Bring anything you want. Bring it all. We’ll find room for it.”

 

}O{

 

The elevator doors pinged open and Castiel found himself face to face with Michael. The Archangel was in a blue pinstriped suit, looking incredibly dapper with his black overcoat hanging off of one arm. Both he and Castiel stared at each other wide-eyed for a few moments, long enough for the doors to start closing again. Michael quickly pushed his hand between the doors to keep them from closing all the way and Castiel stepped out into the hallway.

 

“Michael,” he said, trying to not remember his friend as he had seen him last, looking practically rabid. He looked calm now, different. He smelled different too. It was odd Castiel canted his head to the side to try and analyze what was so off about Michael.

 

“Castiel, I…had not anticipated…”

 

“Yes, I understand…”

 

They stared at each other for a very long time. The elevator sounded next to them every time it passed their floor, and still they stared.

 

“I’m picking up some things,” Castiel said by way of explanation.

 

“You have not mated with him yet,” Michael blurted out, then blushed. “Forgive me, Castiel, I seem to have…but you intend to, do you not?”

 

“I intend to. We both have many issues to work out, but I believe we will mate. Balthazar says it is best to wait for my wings to grow to their full size. They are now growing their permanent feathers.”

 

Michael nodded. “That is good advice. Your wings should be fully mature and able to support you by the end of your Awakening.”

 

They shifted uncomfortably again.

 

“Castiel, I apologize for my behavior. I had chosen you for a mate without your permission and put my mark on you without thinking to consult you first. It was arrogant of me, silly and thoughtless. Because of that, I overreacted.”

 

“Why did you put your mark on me?” Castiel asked. “I still do not fully understand all of this as I have not received all of my memories as of yet, but it seems a foolish thing to have done, to have assumed that I would have felt that way when I never did before.”

 

“You don’t remember,” Michael said. “In heaven, just after Lucifer and Balthazar mated, I found you. You were upset. I made a proposition to you. We would mate. Not for love, but because it was a good match. You are a natural leader and would be a good second for me when I went off to battle. You work well with Lucifer and have a head for strategy, so I knew I could trust you. You said yes, but only on the condition that you were allowed a chance to live here on earth. I should have known then that you were waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet. You wanted to love and…it was a tactical error.”

 

Castiel reached out a hand and grasped Michael’s bicep. “Love is not politics and strategies, Michael. It just happens. Like a lightning storm, it is a force of nature.”

 

“I am finally starting to understand that,” Michael admitted. “But it’s taken me a long time.”

 

}O{

 

Becky was just a little ball of energy when Dean walked into the office. She had a million things to say and about five minutes to say them in, so it all came out in a disjointed jumble. Not for the first time, Dean questioned the wisdom of having a Sprite for a secretary. She was efficient, though, he’d give her that.

 

“Mrs. Jenkins sent a fruit basket after the Poltergeist incident and I meant to ask about Castiel, she said you had to carry him out of there, I hope he’s okay. There’s evidence of a Rugaru in Topeka so I dispatched Walt and Roy like you said so I guess that’s why you haven’t heard what they were saying about Castiel yet, and we burned the building that the Skinwalker was hiding out in, just so you know. Doesn’t look like they’ll be trouble any more. I think the Coven next town over is trying to do something big for Halloween, but it doesn’t look like it’ll be Evil Big, just Big Big and, um…maybe I should go? I could, uh…take Sam with me?”

 

Dean frowned at Becky. “Okay, let’s start at the beginning. Where’s the fruit basket?”

 

“In the fridge.”

 

“Okay, you take what you want from it, and I’ll take the rest. What are Walt and Roy saying about Castiel?”

 

“Well, if you ask me, they’re just being jealous that you have an Angel and they don’t,” Becky simpered, her dragonfly wings buzzing as she twisted back and forth like a preschooler.

 

Dean shut his eyes and counted to five. “What are they saying, Becky?”

 

“Just that it’s not natural and some other things that don’t matter. Like they’d even try to go after you.”

 

Dean let out a humorless laugh. “They’ll try if they think they can take me by surprise. I’ll deal with them, though. You said they’re in Topeka right now, though?”

 

Becky nodded. “Oh, and I almost forgot: I think Loki’s planning a haunted house tour at an actual haunted house. The old Miller farm at the edge of town?”

 

“That jerk,” Dean grunted. “I’ll deal with him. Okay, here’s what I want you to do today—call a few contractors. I want to see about converting my attic into an apartment of some sort, and find another case for Walt and Roy to work on out of town while I try and figure out what their damage is on Cas. Okay, we got appointments today?”

 

Becky nodded and got out her notepad. “We have a lady who wants to try and contact a dead relative about some money—“ Dean snorted because it was almost always about money and never in his experience about saying “I love you” one last time. “—a guy who thinks his kid’s music box is possessed, so I told him just to bring it in and I figured you could figure that out, and another guy who thinks he has a cursed object.”

 

“Okay, I’m meeting Cas at twelve, so just work everyone around that,” he said.

 

Becky fluttered away squealing something that sounded a lot like, “You’re so cute!”

 

}O{

 

Dean could see Castiel’s profile as he was sat at a booth with his back to Dean, looking out the window. It was a lovey profile, Dean decided. He especially liked the curve of Castiel’s long neck and his brain started cataloguing a thousand things he’d like to do to that neck when he finally got the chance to. Tonight. Tonight sounded good. He’d asked Castiel to move in with him, he was going to renovate the attic—he’d worry about storage space later—so tonight.

 

He could still remember waking up that morning to a cold bed and the panic he’d felt at it until he’d sat up and found Castiel looking at himself in the large mirror above Dean’s dresser. Castiel had been dressed in only a set of boxers, his wings were out and he was flexing them one at a time in a way that reminded Dean of Adam when the boy had realized he could lift just one eyebrow at a time. The wings were larger than they had been when Dean had last seen them, and the downy plumage was sleeker, darker and dappled with blue. Dean was reminded of a duckling and the thought had made him laugh. Castiel had turned to him and, well…his palms still remembered the feel of that muscular, smooth ass flexing under them as Dean directed Castiel to grind against him as the Angel gasped and moaned above him. The best part had been watching those wings tremble and flutter, then fling outward, opening to full span when Castiel came. Dean really wanted a repeat performance later.

 

He approached the booth and loved the look of mild surprise on Castiel’s face when he leaned down to kiss him. “Hi, honey.”

 

Castiel blushed. “Hello, love.”

 

Now it was Dean’s turn. He tried to hide his discomfort behind the menu, but Castiel’s smirk let him know the Angel had found his weakness. To hear that word…

 

“I have a crazy, insane idea,” Dean said.

 

Castiel reached across the table and linked their fingers. “Oh? Tell me about it.”

 

Dean told him about renovating the attic so Sam and Jess could have the second floor, and Castiel smiled through it all.

 

“What will we do with Adam, though?” Castiel asked, popping the only hole Dean hadn’t thought about in his bubble. “Is there a room on the first floor we could convert for him? I’d hate for him to think that with Sam, Jess and the baby that he’d need to find a new place to live.” Dean’s face fell and Castiel tightened his hold on his fingers. “I feel like such a terrible person now, making you frown that way, Dean. It’s a wonderful idea, we’ll think of something. I’m sure there will be plenty of room in the attic for a bedroom for Adam.”

 

“No, you’re right, there is plenty of room on the ground floor, and we have a basement too if we need it, though I think a lot of the crap in the attic is going to find its way down there. There’s a study that we don’t touch because it was Dad’s, but…well, he’s never coming home, is he? He’s Odin’s now.”

 

Castiel squeezed Dean’s fingers again. “I’m sorry. I would like to meet him some day.”

 

“He’ll be in town soon. The Wild Hunt always blows through here and creates tons of work for us. Already my crew is working on containing the Supernatural fallout.”

 

“Explain it to me.”

 

The waitress came with burgers and fries and Dean smiled, knowing Castiel must have ordered for them. He loved this Angel. Loved him. “Well, you know how on a fox hunt you have the hounds that smoke out the fox? They follow it from bush to bush to keep it in the open so the hunters can see it? Well, that’s sort of what I mean by Supernatural fallout. The Hunters are commissioned by Odin to kill harmful Supernatural creatures, so they’re on the run ahead of the Hunt. They’re in town right now trying to hide, trying to run, but they can only run so far and so fast and they can’t stay away from the Hunt forever. In ages past, it was okay since towns were sparsely populated with a whole lot of nothing in between, but nowadays we all live on top of each other so Humans get caught in the crossfire. That’s where I come in.”

 

“I’m so proud of you,” Castiel said quietly, releasing Dean’s hand so he could cut his burger and take a bite. The Angel smiled, “And this burger doesn’t taste nearly as good when you’re not sitting next to me.”

 

Dean slid his feet across the space in front of him until they were resting next to Castiel’s. “Me too.”

 

The only low point of their lunch was when Castiel explained his encounter with Michael. Dean frowned and started to get upset that his Angel had been near Michael, but Castiel managed to soothe him into seeing that it was now harmless.

 

“If I did make a promise to him in Heaven, and I have no reason to think I didn’t, then he had every right to expect me to fulfill my promise when the time came. He probably even could have pressed his claim. The fact that he didn’t says much about how honorable he is. He said he is happy for me. For us.”

 

Dean regarded Castiel closely, wondering if he dared to say the thing spinning in his mind. He knew that Castiel would never make fun of him for saying it, but putting it out there, especially so close to him already baring his soul earlier when he asked Castiel to move in, it was frightening and raw. He’d feel weak. And yet…he wanted to spill the contents of his soul to Castiel. He wanted the Angel to see the real him; not just the tough front he showed to the world and to monsters, but the vulnerable part of him that just wanted a family, just wanted to be loved. He reached out his hand and held Castiel’s wrist. “I’d be pissed if I were him, if you walked away from our agreement,” he said quietly, not making eye contact.

 

“I know,” Castiel said. “But it’s not exactly the same as our agreement, Dean. Michael told me that we did not…have feelings for each other. Not the way that you and I do. It was a business decision, pure and simple.” He turned his hands over so that their palms pressed together. “I’m not going anywhere, I mean it. Let’s make the attic our home. I’d love for Jess and Sam to live below us if they want. And if they don’t, then we won’t worry about it.”

 

Dean finally looked up at the Angel, surprised to find Castiel staring at him intently. Silently, Dean slid out of his seat and joined Castiel on the other side of the booth. He wrapped his arm around him, and when Castiel looked up at him in wonder, he leaned down and kissed him. “I’m holding you to that promise.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Loki, we need to talk.”

 

Loki wasn’t sure why he had answered his door, but there was his least favorite Winchester, full of righteous indignation, standing on his welcome mat.

 

And it wasn’t that he _had_ a favorite Winchester, either. It was just that compared to Dean’s overinflated sense of self and Adam’s unassuming petulance, Sam’s ability to fill Loki’s mead bowl regularly elevated him above his brothers. Take away the mead, however, and Sam was every bit as tiresome as Dean. Perhaps even moreso thanks to all his moralizing and quick intelligence, Sam was actually the most dangerous to Loki and his secrets than Dean or Adam could ever be.

 

“Dean-O. To what do I owe the pleasure and privilege?” Keeping Dean on edge was easier than taking candy from a baby. That guy was all buttons, it was just a manner of finding the most entertaining one to push. Loki opened his front door a little wider, letting the Hunter inside.

 

“Your haunted mansion? An actual haunted mansion?” Dean asked as he entered and knocked his boots against the mat to scrape off mud from an early rain. That was the other thing; the guy was always talking in questions.

 

“Yes, I believe it is?” Two could play at that game. Loki popped the cherry sucker out of his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, gauging Dean’s sexual frustration. The Hunter barely blinked, so Loki assumed he and Castiel had moved on from feeding each other to…well… “feeding” each other. “Didn’t I tell you about it?” Loki led him into the living room and sat down in his most comfortable chair. Dean just stood there, scowling at him.

 

“No, you sure as shit didn’t tell me about it. Loki, you can’t put a bunch of Humans in a mansion with actual ghosts and goblins in it!”

 

“Sure we can!” Loki waved his hand dismissively. “It’ll be fun and no one will get killed. Heidi picked out the ghoulies and ghosties herself and Laufey found a few giants to shake the house for added effect.”

 

“Heidi’s involved?” Dean asked, incredulous. “I got news that there’s a coven of witches next town over brewing up some trouble, and I assumed she was behind it.”

 

Okay, Loki had to give Dean-O props on the pun. “I’m sure that’s Heidi too. We’re gods, Dean. We can do lots of different things at once.”

 

“Loki, the Wild Hunt is coming into town on Halloween, I’ve got the Supernatural up the wazoo here, and you and your friends are encouraging attacks on Humans dressed up as fun and games!”

 

“They’re going to have the time of their lives,” Loki reasoned with a nonchalant shrug. “But tell me, Dean-O, where’s your Angelic little shadow today?”

 

“Stop trying to change the subject here, you need to stop this haunted mansion or I swear to God, I’ll—“

 

Loki stood and grabbed Dean’s wrist, effectively cutting off anything he was about to say. He hadn’t done this in well over a thousand years, so he was surprised when he managed to pull out all the stops in such a short amount of time. Wings, slightly atrophied but still golden and beautiful sprouted from his back and his horn manifested just under his palm as he stared deeply into Dean’s eyes.

 

“How is Castiel?”

 

Dean didn’t even blink. “He’s Remembering his old life, it’s making him ill.”

 

Loki nodded. “Nosebleeds? Headaches?”

 

Dean nodded. “Yes.”

 

Even using the Horn of Truth, Loki couldn’t pull more than the barest truth from Dean.  “What are you doing to help him?”

 

“Lucifer and Balthazar come to help him.”

 

Loki nodded. “Good. That’s good. He always liked Lucy, and Bal is a brother to him.”

 

Dean seemed to shake slightly out of his trance. The Hunter was stronger than Loki gave him credit for. “Who are you?”

 

Loki smiled and increased the resonance of his horn. “They call me Gabriel. But that won’t matter, because you won’t remember any of this. “

 

“No,” Dean agreed, his clear green eyes going blank again.

 

“Tell me how Cassie’s wings look.”

 

Dean got a dreamy look on his face. “They’re beautiful.”

 

Loki rolled his eyes. “Good Dad you’re in love, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes,” Dean said quickly.

 

At least there was that, not that Loki doubted it. “Okay, what color are Cassie’s wings?”

 

“They’re brown and speckled with blue.”

 

Loki nodded. “Good, then he’s almost got his full memories back. You be careful with him, Dean, you hear me? Cassie is a good boy and deserves better than you.”

 

“Yes,” Dean agreed readily. “He does.”

 

Loki let go of the pressure and hid his wings back under all of his layers of deception, then pressed two fingers to Dean’s forehead, erasing the memory of their chat.

 

“—string you up so hard your boxers get turned into a thong.”

 

Loki smirked. “Already wearing a thong, Dean-O. Doesn’t seem to be much of a threat.”

 

Dean closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Loki knew that the Hunter’s headache was because of his interrogation, but he liked to think that the thought of him in a thong was at least part of it.

 

“Loki, if you keep the haunted mansion with actual ghosts, I am going to have to do something about it, and you know it!”

 

Loki smirked and popped his lips on his sucker. “I’d love to see you try, Dean-O. But just to be nice, how’s about we make a deal?”

 

Dean shook his head. “No deals, Loki. I don’t do deals with monsters.”

 

Loki laughed. “I am so much more than you think I am, boy. Why don’t you let me tell you what I’m offering?”

 

“Okay, fine, what do you _think_ you can offer me?”

 

Minus points for sass, there, Dean-O. “I can help you kill Azazel.”

 

Okay, that obviously got him. “You know how to kill a Fairy?”

 

Loki nodded. “Yes, not just banish him, but kill him. I imagine you’d want to, seeing as how he’s probably going to continue to target your sister-in-law and her baby.” He bit into the sucker and chewed happily on the chewy chocolate in the center, giving time for the two brain cells in Dean’s head to rub together.

 

“No, no, it can’t be worth it. One wrong move, and we could have some kids getting possessed or eaten or drained of blood…”

 

“Dean, I promise solemnly on all that is holy, I would not allow anyone to be harmed during the haunted mansion tour. And the ghosts won’t be that many. I’m a Trickster, I can create things out of thin air. The ghosts are going to just float around in the air. All of them owe me favors. I promise. Let me have some fun, and I’ll help  you keep your family safe.” Yes, hitting a little below the belt for sure, but all of it true. Loki would lose a lot if anyone actually got hurt at his party since he wanted to do the same thing next year, but he would definitely gain much if his patrons paid and had the shit scared out of them.

 

“How do I know that it’ll really work? I want Azazel gone for good.”

 

Loki shrugged. “Your goal in this matter matches up with my own. Azazel is nuts and he’s unhinged. It’s time to put him out of commission.”

 

Dean crossed his arms. “So why not just do it yourself?”

 

Loki scoffed. “You’re the Hunter around here, not me. You kill someone, it’s justified. I kill someone? No matter what? I’m the one that gets in trouble. It’s best if you handle it.”

 

Loki knew Dean would say yes, it was just a matter of him hemming and hawing over it until he finally did. So he got comfortable, conjured up a root beer float, and waited for the Hunter to finally agree.

 

}O{

 

Dean parked his baby and headed inside the house, eager to see Castiel. His poor Angel had been practically crippled all day with a migraine and bloody nose after several memories came back to him the day and night before. Lucifer had been by in the morning to take care of him and then Balthazar had to come by at lunch to do it again. Both assured Dean that when they went through their Awakenings, and that their pain and bleeding had been similar.

 

He took the stairs two at a time and found his Angel, dressed only in boxers, in the middle of the bed, wings wrapped protectively around him. They were now getting to be more blue than dappled, the smooth adult feathers looking strange mixed in with the downy adolescents. The effect was patchy, as though he had some disease causing his feathers to fall out in clumps. Dean still thought the wings were beautiful, though.

 

Dean thought to sidle up to Castiel and maybe join him for a nap before he had to go out and see about a possible rogue vampire when Castiel lifted his head, sniffing the air slightly. This was new. Before Dean really had a chance to contemplate what it might mean, Castiel was on him, ripping his shirt open and snarling, “Who touched you?” His face was like a rabid animal.

 

Dean was shocked, too shocked at first to do much but gape at Cas.

 

Castiel leaned down and sniffed at him again. “I can smell it on you…someone touched you!”

 

Dean put his hands on Castiel’s shoulders. “Sweetheart, no one is touching me in that way but you,” he said calmly, remembering the half-manic look Michael had worn when Dean had touched Castiel.

 

Castiel threw Dean onto the bed and ran his hands up and down Dean’s torso where it was exposed by the huge gaping hole in his T-shirt. “You’re mine, Dean.”

 

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean said calmly, rubbing his hands up Castiel’s arms, cupping his face. “It’s okay, honey. I’m right here.”

 

That seemed to get through to him, and  Castiel’s face went from fierce to panicked in a split second. “Dean, I…” tears welled in his eyes. “Oh, god, I’m so…”

 

Dean pulled him down and wrapped his arms around him. “Don’t worry, it’s okay,” he reiterated. “It’s okay, honey. Don’t worry.”

 

“What…what was that?” he whimpered. “That wasn’t me.”

 

“I know,” Dean said. “I know. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

 

Castiel kissed him. “I’m sorry, Dean. I’m so sorry.”

 

Dean kissed him back and tried to bring him back to his chest, but Castiel resisted and went in for more kisses. Dean held him steady and wrapped one arm around his waist, his mind whirling as to how he could help Castiel calm down. He tasted the tang of blood and pulled back to see Castiel’s nose bleeding again.

 

“Hey,” he said, grabbing for the Kleenex on the bedside table. “Hey, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

 

Castiel nodded sadly, taking a tissue from Dean’s hand. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

 

Dean sat up, pushing Castiel off of his lap as he did so. Castiel sat back on the bed, his wings pulling in tight over his naked arms. “Need me to call Lucifer or Balthazar?”

 

“No!” Castiel said quickly, his wings ruffling. “No,” he said again, calmer. “I couldn’t right now…I just…can you just hold me?”

 

Dean settled down on the bed and Castiel draped himself over him, his wings fanning out over them both. Dean stroked a hand through the feathers, loving the way they slipped through his fingers.

 

“I’m so sorry, Dean.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, Cas. I’m not upset.” He really wasn’t. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was, laying there with his shirt torn open, the Angel snuggled into his side, wings spread out over him. He just wanted to know why Castiel had reacted that way. The only person he’d come into contact with that day besides Lucifer and Balthazar was Loki, and Dean couldn’t imagine the trickster god would pose much of a threat to Castiel. He reached down and laced fingers with Cas, explaining what Loki had said about killing Azazel.

 

“It’s a good idea, is it not?” Castiel asked. “He should not be allowed to continue unchecked. Don’t his people have some laws that he is breaking?”

 

Dean lifted Castiel’s hand to his lips and stroked his other hand through the Angel’s hair. “Who knows? The Fairies are pretty close-mouthed about their ways. If your friend Charlie were here, we could probably ask her to find out, but who knows when she’ll return?”

 

Castiel hummed. “I was so upset when Charlie left,” he mused. “But if she hadn’t, we probably never would have met.”

 

Dean caressed Castiel’s ring finger, thinking about how nice something gold would look right there. “Are you afraid, Cas? Of us mating? Being linked together for eternity?”

 

Castiel nuzzled his chest. “I don’t know. I just know I want to be with you as much as possible for as long as possible.”

 

Dean smiled and dropped a kiss to the top of his head. “Me too, Cas.”

 

}O{

 

Jess had always known that Azazel didn’t like her, but it had come as a great shock to her when he tried to kill her. She supposed she had always thought that as long as she made Sam happy, Azazel would give her a pass. Then he had pushed his way into her house and threatened her. If Dean and Adam hadn’t shown up when they had, if Castiel hadn’t been confident to use his powers, things would have turned out so differently. She and her child could both be dead now, and Sam would be alone, without an anchor. He would have joined the wild hunt for sure, turned his back on everything and joined his father. He would have hated that.

 

Still, the idea of killing Azazel seemed wrong somehow. What was almost worse was that both Sam and Adam seemed to be acting like the idea was one of the best Dean had ever had. Usually they were the voice of reason to Dean’s outlandish ideas, and neither of them were discussing repercussions or fall-out. Jess felt it was up to her to be that voice.

 

It was Friday night, Adam had just come home, and Sam was about to go to The Roadhouse for his second job. Jess knew it was now or never, while everyone seemed to be milling around the front room, waiting for something to happen.

 

“Um, Sam?”

 

Sam put his arm around her immediately. “What is it, baby? You need anything? You okay?”

 

Jess smiled. Ever since they found out, he’d been treating her like glass, and while it was sweet, it could be smothering at times. “Sam, I’m just worried. What if the Fairy Realm decides to enact revenge for the death of one of their own? What if the spell fails and you can’t kill him and he does even worse? Loki is a trickster in mythology, and he doesn’t do anything without a price. The entire Ring Cycle was pretty much his fault.”

 

“She’s right,” Castiel said. “Dean, I don’t want you putting yourself in trouble, and Sam has a family to think about now.”

 

Adam glared. “I have a life too, you know.”

 

Castiel inclined his head. “I meant no disrespect, Adam. All the more reason for caution, the medical profession would be poorer without you in it.”

 

Jess noticed that Sam gave Adam a look, then Adam shook his head at Sam as if to say, “I will kill you.” Jess knew these looks well; she and Sam had been dating since college so “Winchester Facial Expression” was practically a second language for her. What she didn’t know was what it was referring to. Apparently Sam was keeping some sort of secret. Since it was Adam’s secret, Jess was okay with it, but she was still burning to know.

 

“I bet Bobby would know,” Jess suggested. “He has a lot of knowledge of other Realms.”

 

Dean sighed. “Our girlfriends are a couple of old women.”

 

Sam smirked and Adam outright laughed, but Dean called Bobby, who promised to be at The Roadhouse in a few hours to discuss a plan.

 

At the bar, Sam started getting his station ready, tying his apron around his waist, pulling his hair back into a pony tail that Jess found so very cute and Dean gave him grief about. Sam of course threatened to drop a hair in his beer if he didn’t shut up, and Dean shrugged and said he’d get it for free that way. Ellen heard this and slapped the back of his head, reminding him that he always got free beer.

 

Bobby hadn’t seen Castiel since he had been passed out after healing Jessica, so it was somewhat natural that he pulled the Angel into a rib-cracking hug he moment he saw him at the bar. After he hugged Castiel, he turned to Jessica, and Jessica gave him a huge smile. It was no secret that Bobby had filled in where John left off in Sam’s life, so Jess held a great deal of affection for him and treated him as though he were truly Sam’s father.

 

“You’re glowing, sweetheart,” Bobby insisted gruffly kissing her cheek.

 

“Thanks, Bobby,” Jess answered, her hand going a little unconsciously to her belly where her son was growing, thanks to Castiel. She didn’t think she could ever thank the Angel enough for what he had done.

 

“Well, let’s eat,” Bobby said. “Jess and her baby might starve to death!”

 

Jess rolled her eyes a little at Ellen, who dropped a kiss to her mate’s forehead. “Whatcha want, Jess? I’ll make you anything you like. Got some chicken fried steak, chicken fried chicken, biscuits, potatoes, burgers, and corned beef sandwiches. What’s your pleasure?”

 

Jess thought it over, then decided on the chicken fried chicken. “With mashed potatoes.”

 

Ellen nodded. “Dean, burger?”

 

“I eat other things you know.”

 

Jess laughed at that.

 

“I know that I would like a burger,” Castiel said in his rough, low voice. “And pie, please, Ellen. What flavor do you have today?”

 

Ellen winked at Castiel. “Dean’s favorite.”

 

Castiel frowned. “I was not aware Dean had a favorite flavor.”

 

“He doesn’t,” everyone at the table said, including Dean. Jess loved seeing Dean with Castiel. She hadn’t known him when he was with Victor, but she had been with Sam when Dean was courting Benny, and had seen how much Benny had broken Dean’s heart and her own heart had ached for him after that. Seeing him happy, his face open and caring, the way he caressed Castiel’s arm, or looked into his eyes almost made Jess jealous. Thankfully, she had Sam close by to give her the same care.

 

“I got everyone drinks,” Sam said, speak of the devil. He slid up behind Jess and put iced tea in front of her, then distributed hard drinks to the rest of the group. Before he went back to the bar, he kissed her cheek and gave her shoulder a squeeze.

 

Once everything was ordered and settled, Bobby brought up the business at hand. Dean explained about his trip to see Loki about a haunted house, and Loki’s promise that no one would be hurt in exchange for a spell to kill a Fairy.

 

“I don’t like it,” Bobby said, and Jess felt relieved because having him on her side of things would go a long way towards keeping Sam from putting himself in danger.

 

“What are we going to do, Bobby, let Azazel go after Jess and the baby again?” Dean asked, making Jess’s stomach twitch. She could still remember him closing in on her, spewing abuse in his soft, velvety voice.

 

“Well, we gotta do something, and this is our best bet,” Bobby conceded. “I just don’t know if sending you boys in is the right thing to do.”

 

Jess noticed Adam seemed distracted and followed his line of sight until her eyes landed on an incredibly handsome man at the bar. He looked like an underwear model, all angles with wide light eyes and dark hair. She had no idea that Adam swung that way, not that it mattered to her. She just remembered his high school girlfriend, but come to think of it, she hadn’t seen or heard of him with anyone lately. The man must have felt her looking at him because he turned to her and gave a little frown. She smiled in return, hoping that he would think the family friendly if he intended to pursue Adam, then turned her attention back to the group.

 

“John is the head of your family, and he’s a member of the Wild Hunt,” Bobby was saying. “It would be cleaner if it was him, fewer repercussions on all of you, and I don’t think the Fairy Counsel would be able to claim cold-blooded murder with it being John.”

 

“And you’re not just saying this to keep us safe?” Dean countered.

 

Bobby sighed and smiled up at Ellen as she delivered his healthier baked chicken with steamed vegetables. “I ain’t gonna pretend that I don’t wanna keep you boys safe. You’re my boys and you know it, but I’m serious, Dean. They’re awfully formal little sons of bitches, Fairies, and while they might haul your asses before their magistrates to question the killing, as long as it’s either John or Sam, it will be viewed as an honorable kill.”

 

“Okay,” Dean said, squirting ketchup onto his burger before cutting it in half. “I guess we wait until Dad comes back into town, then. But what do we do if the Hunt leaves before Azazel comes back.”

 

“That’s a good question,” Bobby mused. “I might have a Fairy summoning spell, but I need to look into it.”

 

Jess was just relieved that Sam was going to be kept out of it. She still didn’t like that Azazel would be killed, but it was better that John would do it. He was already cursed to the Hunt.

 

The man at the bar got up and walked across the room to the men’s room, and Jess was unsurprised when Adam excused himself and followed. Jess caught Sam’s eye, and he shrugged.

 

“He actin’ weird?” Bobby asked.

 

Dean shrugged. “I think he’s got his midterms coming up. Probably stressing out.”

 

Jess found Castiel staring at her, the side of his mouth quirked upwards. They both shared a secret look as Dean and Bobby started discussing the collection of the various ingredients needed for the spell. In an unspoken understanding, both Jess and Castiel moved closer.

 

“Who is he?” she asked.

 

“His name is Michael. He is a friend of mine.”

 

Jess’s eyes got wide. “Michael the Archangel?”

 

Castiel nodded. “The very one.”

 

Jess looked down, thinking about the fact that both Adam and Dean had attracted Angels. How the hell did she fit into this family? She wasn’t Supernatural in any way; she didn’t even have Sight. Jess knew that Sam loved her, she knew that he wanted her, but not for the first time, she wondered what a guy like him was doing with a girl like her. Azazel’s words came back to slap her in the face. “You are distracting him from his true purpose.” What was that, exactly?

 

Sam came over then, as always just when she needed him, and set a refill of tea next to her plate. “You need anything else, baby?” he asked, kissing her hair.

 

Jess shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

 

“Hey, why don’t I ever get a kiss, Sammy?” a lady at the bar yelled.

 

Sam smiled and waved his long arm at her, then turned back to Jess. “What’s the verdict? Are we going to do this thing?”

 

“John is,” Bobby said. “Or, he will if he ever gets his ass back here.”

 

Sam nodded. “Okay, I can accept that.” He kissed Jess once more. “Gotta go back to work, baby. Love you.”

 

Jess smiled as Sam made his way back to the bar, dodging hands that reached out to playfully slap his ass, the sound of catcalls in the air. She wasn’t sure what it was that she brought to the table aside from astounding normalcy, but he seemed to love her. That was all that mattered.

 

“Tell me about Michael,” Jess ordered Castiel as Dean and Bobby went back to discussing their plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heiðr/Heith/Heid, is attested as a witch and a Seer in the Völuspa and is often thought to also be Loki’s wife, Gullveig/Gullweig. I’m calling her Heidi, which I would imagine would be a natural progression for a several-thousand-year-old goddess who doesn’t want to draw too too much attention to herself. According to the Völuspa, wicked women worship Heidi and she has a great love for gold and shiny objects. I sort of think the old Norse were shippers and were like, “Those two would do all sorts of damage together! Let’s ship them!” 
> 
> Laufey is attested as Loki’s mother, a Jötunn giantess (you can decide if Marvel was being misogynistic when they made her a man in the Thor comics), and I sort of like the idea that since I made a universe where Angels can give a kid to anyone they feel like it, Gabriel chose Laufey so that he could be a god in this world. In the Eddas, Loki is referred to more as Laufey’s son than he is by his father’s name, which is actually unusual, but then this is Loki we’re talking about. 
> 
> Just in case it needs to be said: I'm playing with mythology of all kinds, so no stepping on anyone's faith intended.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here’s the thing. My uncle died and I just can’t write anything good right now. I’m not giving up on this story. Heck, I’m not even giving up on Pride and Prejudice and Supernatural. These things will be written. Just not now. Not this week. Maybe even not this month. 
> 
> My uncle was a good man. He was a father to not just my brother and myself, but to our other cousins as well. He was a better grandfather to my cousin’s little girl than her own grandfather and father were. He was a better father to us all than our own fathers were. People keep asking me how I am and I keep saying, “I don’t know” because I really don’t know. I don’t know. The only thing I’m really able to do right now is work, sit around in my jammies and stare at Diminuel’s art, Destiel gifs on Tumblr, scratch my cat behind the ears, and sigh. 
> 
> Everything I write right now becomes an angst fest. I tried to write Lucifer and Balthazar taking Beckett to the movies and it ended in Beckett sitting on Castiel’s lap and crying. I tried to write Dean and Castiel having a new pup and Castiel got postpartum depression. I started on a Christmas story based on Han Christian Andersen’s “The Snow Queen” and the only thing that made me happy or smile in the least was a three page detour where Dean took a bath. I sent it to my friend and she said, “Well, it’s really good, the premise is great, Castiel is hot in skintight white pants and shiny black knee high boots, but I’m really concerned about this three page rabbit trail where Dean turns into Colin Firth and takes a bath then dresses in Mr. Darcy’s exact outfit when he went to ask Elizabeth to marry him for the second time at the Lambton Inn. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it, but I have to ask what it does for the plot.” I told her that it made me happy and true to the English major she is, she said, “Okay, then keep it in for now. We’ll edit it out later. Write as much of Dean in a bath as you like.” So I did because fuck you world, that’s why. Dean’s in a bathtub, suck it. Castiel’s dressed like some Regency-era fop and he looks fab and his hair is shaggy and curly and it’s making me happy, but that’s all I can do because everything else in the world is making me sad. 
> 
> So…just to recap: I’m not giving up, but I just can’t write anything other than Dean in a bathtub or everyone crying right now. 
> 
> I wrote this scene before…everything. It’s Midam. I’m not sure how good it is. I hope you like it. I hope I’ll be updating soon. Just please be patient. 
> 
> -Artoo

Michael stood by Adam’s window, watching the sky change color as the sun slowly ascended. In the bed, Adam stirred and reached his hand out to where Michael had been laying only a few hours previously. Michael was astounded at how quickly Adam was getting used to him. He wondered if it had been this intense with Castiel and Dean at first.  Adam didn’t seem to question his need to be near Michael, to hold him and touch him, and Michael wondered if Dean accepted his draw to Castiel as blindly.

 

Adam rolled over, his lithe body drawing Michael’s eyes, making him lick his lips with anticipation. He already wanted the boy again, and a quick look between Adam’s legs affirmed that he would be amenable.

 

He wondered briefly what he was still doing here, he could leave and Adam wouldn’t know the difference, but when the boy stirred again and reached his arm out to the vacant spot where Michael had been earlier, Michael found that he didn’t want to be anywhere but here.

 

“Mike?”

 

He smiled at the nickname. No one ever called him Mike except for Gabriel, and no one had seen him in over a thousand years. It was proof that Adam was his mate that Michael could stomach the moniker.

 

“I’m still here, beloved.” He stalked slowly towards the bed.

 

Adam sat up sleepily, his eyes still heavy, then cocked his head to the side, rubbing one eye. “Shit, are those wings?”

 

Michael stopped and glanced over his shoulder at his magnificent purple wings. He had forgotten somehow that Adam had never seen them. “I suppose you could say you’ve seen me completely naked now,” he mused with a rueful smile. Adam’s look of awe, however, warmed him completely. “Do they please you?”

 

“Shit,” Adam said again. Michael was becoming confused at the expletive. “They’re fucking beautiful.” 

 

Michael sat down on the bed facing Adam and cupped his jaw, running his thumb over the boy’s cheekbone. “I’m glad you like them,” he murmured before leaning in for a kiss. To his surprise, Adam pushed him away.

 

“W-why are you with me?”

 

The question took him completely by surprise. “What do you mean?”

 

Adam shook his head. “I’m a twenty year old med school student, and I’m goofy looking even _before_ you compare me to my brothers. You—you’re perfect. You could be a model and…you’re older than dirt. What could you possibly see in me?”

 

Michael was amazed at how Adam took his self-esteem issues and somehow managed to make them insulting towards Michael. That was quite a talent. But as Adam had pointed out, he was “older than dirt,” and he knew how to see beyond the insecurities of fledglings. He put his other hand on the other side of Adam’s face and smiled. “You are beautiful, Adam. You are kind and you love your brothers. You wish to heal people, and you don’t answer my text messages for hours because you are so busy trying to not squander your brother’s gift of tuition and boarding that you get completely lost in your research. I am older than you, and I am eternal, but I know a beautiful soul when I see one. Adam, you are so much more than perfect. You are flawed and it is wonderful.”

 

Adam hmphed and lay back down, so Michael followed his movement and spread out over him, stretching his wings as far as they would go in the small room. When Adam reached out a hand, Michael steeled himself for the first touch of his lover’s hand on his wings, but he still wasn’t prepared for the current of electricity that shot through them both.

 

He had always told it would be this way, but he hadn’t believed it. He had viewed the entire idea of mating for love as another plan of weakness from Father. He was right, but he found that he couldn’t hate the weakness.

 

“Here,” he said, laying down on his stomach. “Touch them. It’s okay.”

 

Sometime later, he was laid out over Adam’s chest while Adam carded his fingers through his wings. They were both cooling in their sweat, spent and sated, still breathing heavy. Michael was tracing protective sigils over Adam’s heart, loving the feel of his hands on him.

 

“So…the oil just comes?” Adam asked. “Is that too personal?”

 

Michael smiled against his chest. “Nothing is too personal, beloved. The oil is for keeping my feathers preened, and yes, I produce it naturally.” He smiled up at Adam. “You found a much more interesting use for it, however.”

 

Adam blushed and stroked his fingers through deep purple feathers. “I…I like you…” Adam gulped. “I like you there…like that.”

 

Michael chuckled and kissed his lover. “It’s okay, Adam. You like me inside you?”

 

Adam nodded. “It feels good,” he said. “I’ll be studying in the library and I…I get so hard just thinking about you and how much I want you.”

 

“You can pray to me at times,” Michael said. “I could always fly to wherever you are if you need me.”

 

“What if I needed you for something…not sex?”

 

Michael smiled. “I would love to be of help to you in any capacity, though I’m not sure how much I could help you with your studies.” He took Adam’s hand from his wings and kissed it.

 

Adam smiled back and tugged Michael back up to him so he could lean up and kiss him. “What if I needed you for something else? Like Hunting.”

 

“You don’t hunt,” Michael said a little more forcefully than he meant to. “Sorry,” he dropped his fierce gaze. “I didn’t…”

 

“I don’t hunt,” Adam agreed. “It’s okay. Dean and Sam prefer that I don’t. I know how, of course, because I have to be able to take care of myself if I need to, but I don’t do it usually.”

 

Michael wanted so badly to say that Adam would never have to worry about taking care of himself again, but he also was wise enough to know that Adam would not want to be coddled. Instead, he hummed a little and said, “Adam, I wish to help you with all parts of your life. All you have to do is ask and I will do what I can.”

 

Adam blushed again. “Well, tonight, or last night. Whenever that was. Last night, my brothers…I guess I should start at the beginning.”

 

Michael put his head back down on Adam’s chest. “The beginning is usually a good place to start.”

 

Adam started with the story of how Sam was born and how Azazel had come into his room and chosen him as a godchild, Sam’s abilities because of that, and the threat against Jess and the baby. “So…I guess my dad’s going to try and kill Azazel, either that or Sam has to do it.” Adam paused, then whispered, “Michael, I don’t want my brother or my dad to die.”

 

Michael rolled them onto their sides and cocooned his wings around Adam. “Don’t worry, little one. Your troubles are my troubles now, you’ll see. I’ll…I’ll find out what I can about this.” He had never spoken to a god other than his Father before, but perhaps he should seek out this Loki character, and if he wasn’t willing to talk, then Michael would go to Odin. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex happens. Finally!

Castiel went back to work Monday morning. He could no longer hold out, and it was clear that Dean would be swamped at work thanks to Halloween and the Wild Hunt, so there was really no point in hanging around the Winchester house.

 

In the office, he stared at Samandriel and was amazed to discover that he remembered everything about the boy. Samandriel smiled and they clasped forearms the way they had back in Heaven when they were in the same training areas together.

 

The day was not productive work-wise because word had spread through the office somehow that he was ill and taking off two weeks for some sort of treatment, so anyone he had ever come into contact with in his huge corporation decided they had to come by and tell him he looked good, give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, sometimes a gift, or relay a story of something he had missed.

 

The good part about it was that before, when he was still trying to figure out what had happened to him, he had felt that he was surrounded by the Supernatural, but now that he was calmer and more in control, he could see much better that he was mostly surrounded by Humans with the odd Werewolf, Angel, Vampire, or Other in the minority.

 

By the evening, he was ready to return to Dean’s house—their house—and relax, however. His wings were feeling cramped once more, and he was barely in his and Dean’s bedroom before he was stripping off his shirt and undershirt, letting his wings out as he flexed them and breathed a sigh of relief. He stared at them in the mirror, realizing that they were a smooth deep blue, all traces of juvenile feathers gone. He flexed them forward so that the tips were in front of him and carded a hand through one, just to test. Smooth adult feathers traced against his fingers and he let them bob back to a resting position at his back.

 

“Huh,” he said, twisting to get a better look at them in the mirror. When he had been in Heaven, vanity had been the least of his problems. Mirrors, images, all of that meant nothing. Here on Earth, however, he found himself captivated by the look of his wings sprouting so finely and symmetrically from his back.

 

He could remember admiring the forms of others, such as Lucifer and even Michael, but he couldn’t really conjure a moment where he had thought so very much of himself. It was odd, to have his memories of his past life with his current memories of his current life. It was as though he were skating on two separate roads that ran parallel to each other, separated by a small bit of space. He was both an Angel and a Human at the same time. His heart beat, his lungs drew breath, he felt things like cold and heat and pain and…Dean. He felt Dean. It was like Dean was a consciousness thrumming just beneath his skin, a part of him.

 

He wanted to be near Dean, felt an overwhelming urge to just touch him, so he found his phone and smiled to see that Dean had already sent him a text asking him to meet him at The Roadhouse. Castiel tucked his wings away and put his shirt back on so he could do just that.

 

}O{

 

Castiel was surprised to find Michael sitting at the bar, drinking a beer and talking amiably with Sam.

 

“Castiel!”

 

Castiel nodded and took a seat next to Michael.  “Hello, Michael.”

 

Michael gave him a small smile, and just like that, Castiel was able to recall their entire history together, the way Michael had proposed they join forces, Castiel’s heartbreak at Balthazar binding with Lucifer, the way he had been sure he was losing not only his best friend but his mentor, and Michael’s proposition had seemed so nice. The best part was that there were to be no emotions involved.

 

_“You just had your heart broken, Castiel. Can you honestly tell me you want more of the same? Bind with me,” Michael said, stroking his hand down Castiel’s cheek. “Don’t you see, ours will be a union of minds.”_

_Castiel gave a tight-lipped smile. “You know how to sweet talk an Angel, Michael.”_

_Michael snorted. “Do you wish for words of love from me, dearest? Would you desire sonnets and love songs?”_

_“No, not from you,” Castiel conceded. His heart was broken, he wasn’t thinking rationally, and yet he couldn’t dismiss Michael’s proposition. “Tell me, are you heartbroken, Michael?”_

_The Archangel looked positively scandalized. “Certainly not! I would never run away with…_ emotion _in that way.”_

_“I’ll think it over,” Castiel said. He was at least aware that it was the wrong time to make such a momentous decision._

“Castiel?”

 

He looked at Michael in a new light now. “I’m sorry, Michael. I was just…remembering.”

 

“You remember now? Everything?”

 

Castiel nodded. “My memories are intact. I simply require focus to bring them back.”

 

Michael smiled and patted him on the back.

 

“Michael, I am truly sorry for breaking our engagement, however, I believe you…I believe perhaps you are happier now?”

 

Michael nodded and took a sip of his beer. “Yes, Castiel. You were right.” His hand gripped Castiel’s shoulder. “You were right.”

 

_Angels did not measure time because time did not exist for Angels. The concept of time is a human reality. For Humans, time is linear, filled with cause and effect, days, weeks, months…anything beyond a few years is incomprehensible to them. The significant factor is that time passed. Time passed for Castiel. How it might be measured against Human consciousness is immaterial. It was enough time to heal his wounded ego and to cause him to see more clearly the mistake he had made in accepting Michael’s proposal._

_Michael had promised him no romance, no love. Their relationship was polite, cordial, conventional. They respected each other, but there was no love. And enough time passed that Castiel began to crave that love._

_“I made a mistake,” he said. No preamble, no explanation. Michael would know what he meant._

_“A mistake would be continuing to chase after the illusion of love,” Michael answered, hardly looking up from his scrolls. War was brewing between Heaven and Hell. Michael would be leading the charge. He was going to leave Castiel in Heaven in leadership, his first test of their proposed relationship._

_“No, Michael. It is a mistake to continue telling myself that I don’t want it. That I don’t hope to see a light of happiness in your eyes when you see me for the first time after a long absence, that I don’t crave someone to hold me passionately.”_

_“Love is weakness and you know it. We’ve talked this over, dearest. Love has brought you here.”_

_Castiel shook his head. “No, lying to myself brought me here. Pretending that love doesn’t matter is what brought me here.”_

_Michael gave him his full attention. “What do you want, Castiel?”_

_“I wish to break our engagement.”_

_“And when you realize that what you want is a pipe dream? That your idea of love is an illusion? Do you honestly think that those around us in love are truly happy?”_

_Castiel shook his head. “I know not. But I wish to find out.”_

_Michael stood in front of him and held his arms. “Who will love you if you break our agreement, Castiel? Who will trust you to not leave them capriciously as you are now leaving me? Do you not see how your actions will affect all around you? You will be seen as inconstant and fickle!”_

_“I am willing to take that risk, Michael.” He walked away from his fiancé then. He knew he had to do it._

“You were wise beyond even my years, Castiel,” Michael conceded. “I had never thought to like this Earth, and certainly never thought to turn my eyes to a human.”

 

“Do you still believe love makes you weak?”

 

Michael nodded. “Very. But in the best way.”

 

They shared a smile. “What brings you in here tonight?”

 

“I can’t lie and say I came to see you?” Michael asked with a smirk. When Castiel shook his head, he briefly explained about what Adam had told him regarding killing Azazel. “I thought I would find Loki and speak with him. I don’t like to do it since he is a god and he stands against The Father, but I must do this for my mate.”

 

Castiel nodded. “You will show him that you can care for his family.”

 

“A benefit I am not sure he will welcome. He is very independent.”

 

“I have noticed it is a shared trait amongst the brothers,” Castiel mused. “But still, it sounds as though Adam is asking you to keep his brothers safe. As one is my mate, I cannot disagree with his sentiment. I have not seen Loki here since my first night. I believe Dean or Sam could tell you where he lives.”

 

Michael slid his hand up Castiel’s arm to his shoulder and leaned their foreheads together. “You love Dean.”

 

Castiel chuckled deep in his chest. “I always knew you would have light in your eyes if you loved someone, Michael. You were never this affectionate with me. Not even when you were trying to convince me to change my mind.”

 

_“A deal, then,” Michael said. “I will not give you up, Castiel. Not without a fight. I am still convinced that you are a True Match for me, so hear me out: We go to Earth. We embody as many of our kind have done, and I promise you that we will still find each other. We will still end up together. I know we will.”_

_Castiel nodded. “Very well. I concede. But if I fall in love…you must allow me to follow my heart.”_

“You knew all along, that love would make me more of an Angel. A better Angel.”

 

Castiel shook his head. “No, do not give me so much undue credit. I simply…you were vengeance and blood. The right arm of The Father Himself. You needed love, and not the sort of polite companionship that you suggested we share. You deserve passion, something to ground you. My Dean is a Hunter, and until he met me, he required an anchor or else he would have been lost in the Hunt, becoming nothing but a mindless slave to the never-ending chase. That is how we all are, Michael. Just as I could have lost myself to my powers if I had used them too soon in this mortal shell, you would have surely lost yourself to the sword had you not found Adam.”

 

Michael pulled away from Castiel. “You are still wise beyond your years.”

 

“You make me blush.”

 

“It is not a false praise, Castiel. I do wish…” his hand went back to Castiel’s shoulder, “…It would have been very nice if we could have loved each other.”

 

“Agreed. But we are better with our Hunters.”

 

Michael looked over Castiel’s head. “And here yours is, staring at us with forlorn love in his eyes, worried that you are passing him over for the likes of me. Go to him. I will ask Sam about Loki.”

 

Castiel turned to see just that. Dean was staring at him, green eyes huge and sad. He knew how it must look, that he and Michael were rekindling some sort of love. In a way they were, but he wasn’t quite sure Dean would understand. He was not a celestial being; he did not comprehend the closeness born of several eons worth of friendship, loyalty, and brotherly love. Perhaps someday, but not yet.

 

Castiel didn’t even say goodbye to Michael. He was too drawn by his mate. He walked straight to Dean without breaking eye contact, his other senses helping him to sidestep patrons and chairs and pool cues. He walked straight to Dean, grabbed his shirt and leaned up, rubbing the tips of their noses together a few times before joining their lips together once, twice, three times.

 

“Hello, Dean.”

 

“Fuck, Cas! You can’t just kiss a guy like that!”

 

Castiel smiled, gliding his hands down Dean’s stomach and pulling on his belt loops to bring him closer, feeling the proof of his mate’s arousal against his stomach. Dean grazed his lips over Castiel’s forehead.

 

“Dean, please get our food to go. I’ll meet you at home. It is time to finalize our bond.”

 

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat and Castiel kissed his neck in response. “Cas, you’re killing me.”

 

“Trust me, if I were intent on your demise, you would no longer be breathing. Now let’s go home.”

 

}O{

 

Dean never drove so fast in all his life. He wasn’t even sure if Castiel meant what he thought he meant, but if he did, then…whoa. Boy. Dude.

 

They were going to finally have sex.

 

Awesome.

 

Oh God.

 

Wait.

 

More like, “Oh Castiel’s Dad” because…Angel. 

 

He knew Cas was an Angel. Why was this just suddenly freaking him out? He was hot for the little nerdy dude, so what was the problem? Come on, Winchester, get a grip. It’s not like you haven’t been thinking about it, and Cas is clearly okay with it. Balthazar and Lucifer seemed to think it was okay.

 

So why was he suddenly feeling cold feet?

 

He pulled into the driveway and tried to gather his thoughts.

 

“Okay, Dean,” he said aloud, feeling like a freakin’ moron, “pull it together. This is Cas. He wouldn’t let you do anything sacrilegious or wrong. If he wants to get his freak on with us, we have no objection. We’ve been ready to go for ages now.”

 

And with that, he got out of the car with the bag of food and went inside.

 

Oh good gravy. Was that Castiel’s tie on the newel post? He picked up the monochrome grey-on-grey striped silk, letting it slide between his fingers. Castiel’s jacket was hanging from the post on the landing. His pants were left rumpled up the second flight. Dean wasn’t sure if he was disappointed that he wouldn’t be allowed to unbutton him, or if it was hot as hell.

 

He settled on hot as hell. He could always unbutton Castiel at a later date.

 

Dean felt his heart pound at the thought. Castiel was going to be here tomorrow, the next day, week, year, decade…beyond what he could comprehend. Angel/Hunter bonds were forever. Even after Dean’s death, they would have their own special place in Heaven where soul mates retire. That was the promise, at least. Until then, though, his lifeline would be tied in with Castiel’s Grace, and his years would be extended to the triple digits.

 

In a way, Castiel would be doing for Dean what his friend Charlie’s Fairy  girlfriend would be doing for her.

 

Dean paused, staring at the white shirt currently draped just in front of his door.

 

Fuck his brain.

 

“Cas, I just had an idea.”

 

“Really? And I was being so subtle.”

 

That voice.

 

He opened the door, finding his Angel spread out on the bed on his belly, ass framed perfectly by dark blue briefs trimmed in white, wings spread out, starting in light blues at the top and ending in dark blues at the bottom. Oh holy hell.

 

His mouth went dry and all thoughts left his brain.

 

Wait, no, that was important. It was an important thought.

 

Castiel sat up on his knees and stretched his arms over his head, flexing his wings out. They were darker on the underside, a deep cobalt. Dean wanted to sink his fingers into those feathers…

 

“Wait, wait, I need to say this idea…”

 

Castiel walked on his knees to the end of the bed and slid his hands inside Dean’s flannel, pushing it off his shoulders. “Want to show me instead?”

 

Fuck. Well, what would one little kiss hurt?

 

He meant it to be just a soft peck, maybe a good amount of lip, but before he knew it, Castiel’s tongue was sliding against his and the Angel was manhandling him until he was laying on his back, arms full of Castiel’s long, lithe body, hand firmly planted on one ass cheek, other hand between his wings. Fuck his friend Charlie and her Fairy girlfriend, this was…

 

Wait. “Wait, Cas…”

 

Castiel pulled away looking distinctly annoyed. “What is it, Dean? Are you still pushing me away? I am patient, but—“

 

Dean cut him off. “No, no, we’re totally— _totally_ —going to have sex. But I got this idea about your friend Charlie.”

 

“Dean, Charlie really isn’t interested in being in a threesome with us.”

 

Dean laughed. “No, that’s not what I mean. But nice idea. No, she has a Fairy girlfriend, right? Why dick around with Loki or even known lore when we can ask an actual Fairy? If Bobby can really summon one, then why not her first?”

 

“Huh,” Castiel hummed. “Good idea. My mind has been so occupied with my past memories that I had nearly forgotten Charlie. If we summon Gilda successfully, perhaps I can see Charlie once more. I miss her.”

 

Dean raked his fingers through Castiel’s wings. “What will she think of all this?”

 

“I believe she will be very accepting. It is her way.  She will probably be excited for me.”

 

“I’m excited for you,” Dean said with a smile.

 

“Yes, Dean. I can feel it,” Castiel said, grinding down a bit.

 

Dean laughed. “God, I love you, you nerdy little…” he stopped himself. Fuck, he hadn’t meant to say it like that. He looked up at Castiel to apologize, to do…something, but found his Angel smiling down at him benevolently.

 

“Yes, Dean. I love you as well.” Cas leaned down and kissed him. “I would not bind myself to you if I did not.”

 

Dean looked up at him and stroked his hands over Castiel’s arms, teasing his fingertips over the flesh. “I meant for that to be a little more romantic. Sorry. But I do. I love you.”

 

Castiel took Dean’s face in his hands and leaned in, kissing him. “I know.”

 

Dean lifted his arms so Castiel could slip his undershirt off, then the Angel ran his palms down Dean’s chest, pushing him back against the pillows. His lips followed his hands, and Dean leaned his head back, enjoying the little kitten licks and sucks against his flesh as Cas made his way down Dean’s stomach to the waistband of his jeans.

 

“Yesssss,” he hissed when hot breath hit against his crotch as Cas started to tease him, plucking at the waistband with his fingers, rubbing against Dean’s erection, biting his thigh through his pants. “Ah, Cas…” he sank his fingers into Castiel’s hair, pulling him closer, wanting more, wanting the torture to never end.

 

Castiel unbuttoned the waistband and slid the zipper down, kissing and licking, biting at Dean’s hip bones. Dean loved the tickle of Cas’s tongue, the sharp dig of his teeth. He bit his own lip when Castiel licked around his happy trail, tickling the hairs with his nose and lips.

 

“Cas, please, I need more.”

 

Castiel chuckled against his skin and slid Dean’s jeans and underwear off. On instinct, Dean reached down and squeezed himself, then slid his hand loosely up and down, managing to get in a couple of relieving strokes before Castiel stopped him, straddling his thighs. The Angel had stripped his own boxers off at one point, and now he was gloriously naked and on Dean’s lap, his wings fluttering ever so slightly with his every movement.

 

Dean tugged his arms toward himself, drawing Castiel to him since he had hold of Dean’s wrists. The Angel was stronger than Dean was, Dean knew this, but he still moved forward at Dean’s tugs, letting himself be drawn into Dean’s embrace, responding when Dean kissed him. Dean started manhandling Castiel, forcing him to crawl up Dean’s chest until he was straddling it. Dean enjoyed himself along the way, finding out that Castiel had incredibly sensitive nipples and was slightly ticklish just under his left rib.

 

Castiel seemed to understand what he was trying to do, and let Dean pull him forward, gripped the headboard, and then Dean was rewarded with a filthy moan when he grabbed Cas’s ass and sucked him down. He pressed his fingers between Castiel’s cheeks and started to tease his soft, puckered entrance when something wet dripped against his wrist. Confused, he pulled away and looked at his hands.

 

“Oil,” Castiel said when Dean touched a finger to the drop on his wrist. “It’s for my wings, but…I understand that it can be used for other things.”

 

Dean looked up at him in wonder and put his hands on Castiel’s back, following the trail of the oil upwards. “Is this okay?” he didn’t want to overstep his bounds.

 

“Of course, Dean.” He leaned down and kissed the top of Dean’s head. “Touch me.”

 

Dean did just that, pressing his palms against Castiel’s back, spreading the oil around, drawing it down to his butt, rubbing it in, then moving his hands back up to Castiel’s wings, finding the oil glands, and teasing them when Castiel let out a moan at the contact.

 

“That’s quite nice,” he groaned.

 

Dean smiled and pushed Castiel off of him and onto his stomach, intent on exploring this new part of his lover. He pressed his hands into the feathers, letting them sink deep into Castiel’s wings, letting the Angel’s moans and gasps guide him as he worked his way down his back, pressing, kneading, collecting the oil and spreading it over Castiel’s buttocks until it was nice and slick, then he started working his way inside.

 

“Dean,” Castiel moaned when Dean’s fingers brushed over his opening. He pushed his hips up to get more of Dean against him and Dean leaned down and kissed one well-formed cheek before scraping his teeth against it. “Ah, that’s good!” Castiel said with a laugh. He pushed off the bed and straddled Dean once more, grinding down against him. “Please, Dean, I’m ready. I want you to make me yours.”

 

Dean nodded and started working on opening Cas up while Cas kissed and licked his neck, moaning encouragement when Dean’s fingers slipped inside. It was torture to touch him like this, feeling the tight, pulsing heat of him, working oil inside until he was nice and slick. He wanted inside, wanted in that heat…

 

“Now, Dean, please,” Castiel whispered against his lips, pushing back against the head of Dean’s cock. “Use my oil on yourself. I want you to smell like me so that every Angel in the world knows you’re mine.”

 

Dean did as Castiel asked, his breath hitching when Castiel actually started to slide down onto him.

 

“Fuck, Cas!” he moaned at the tight heat enveloping him agonizingly slowly. He pressed a hand into Castiel’s hip to try and speed him along. He thrust upwards without thinking, his body wanting more of Castiel. “Cas, I want…I want us to bind now. Can we do that? I want you to be mine, too.”

 

Castiel nodded. “Yes, Dean. If you will let me, I will mark you as mine.”

 

Dean nodded, not sure what that might entail, but wanting it. If Castiel wanted him…if he was willing to really stay… “I want you so much, Cas,” he whispered, pulling him down for a kiss.

 

They moved together on instinct, Dean thrusting up while Cas ground down, their moans and heavy breathing filling the room, little squeaks from the bed, the flutter of wings. And then Castiel placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder just as Dean circled his hand around Castiel’s erection. Their movements grew more frenzied now, the building of their completion moving closer. Dean wanted it to be good for Castiel, he wanted his first time like this to be incredible. His own pleasure was nothing compared to his mate’s.

 

“I love you,” he whispered against Castiel’s ear, the realization that it was so much more than just physical. He loved so much about Cas, his humor and his laughter and the way he accepted Dean’s family…

 

“I love you, too, Dean,” Castiel replied. “Now I’m going to mark you.”

 

Dean nodded. “Do it.”

 

He was expecting it to hurt for some reason, but the pulse that entered his body was pure white-hot pleasure. He arched and cried out, and something that sounded like a lion roared in his ears. He was pretty sure he blacked out at some point, but he sort of remembered Castiel bouncing on his dick, his head thrown back and white-hot bursts of seed spilling out over his stomach as Cas came. Their bodies vibrated, shaking the bed, practically shaking the house. Dean came too, his body arching upwards, trying to get as inside Cas as possible, practically bucking him off as he thrust. His eyes closed and Castiel slumped against him.

 

Somehow, they managed to get the strength to separate, then Castiel lay on top of Dean, his wings acting as their blanket.

 

“Wow,” Castiel murmured.

 

Dean smiled, sifting his fingers through Castiel’s hair. “I wish I could remember half of it,” he chuckled, feeling a tingling in his arm where Castiel had marked him.

 

“We’ll have to do it again someday to help jog your memory.”

 

Dean laughed and rubbed his face, wiping off the sweat. “I swear, I can last longer usually.”

 

Castiel lifted his head and kissed Dean with soft lips. “It was great. I feel great. I mean it.”

 

Dean smiled and cuddled Castiel’s head against his heart. “So, we’re, like, married now?”

 

He almost jumped when he felt Castiel in his head saying _, Yes, now we are bonded. Can you feel it?_

“Wow,” Dean whispered. “Wow, I’ve read about it, but…wow.”

 

_You’ve said that already._

 

Dean looked down at the Angel currently smiling against his chest. “Things are going to be so different now.”  


	13. Chapter 13

Castiel didn’t really sleep. It was an odd sort of awareness that he drifted off to as Dean snuggled against his chest, snoring. He floated through his memories, lingering in the ones that were pleasant, like the time he and Balthazar switched out Uriel’s sword for Rachel’s, and Uriel kept missing his parries because the balance was off. He had chased after all of them, yelling and frothing until Zachariah told him to go and calm down and reprimanded him for losing his temper. Uriel was forced to meditate for a century in penance, and Castiel, Balthazar and Rachel were not punished to further test Uriel’s patience. It was then that Castiel started to understand how vindictive Zachariah could be and avoided him at all costs.

 

Dean awoke after his usual four hours of sleep, and since he was already laying atop Castiel, he used the position to his advantage and they made love again, slowly and sloppily, holding hands like lovestruck teenagers. Castiel loved the way Dean threaded their fingers together, kissed his cheek, nuzzled his ear. He felt loved, cherished. He understood what the term “afterglow” meant.

 

They showered together even though Castiel could just use his grace to make them clean. He found he liked the human ritual of bathing, especially since Dean insisted upon washing his hair and his back, his long, thick fingers feeling so good against Castiel’s flesh. Castiel returned the favor and happily smoothed his hands over Dean’s body and massaged shampoo into his hair.

 

They lingered in the bathroom, kissed long and slow, touched, dressed slowly because clothes covered the most interesting places on their bodies. By the time they were finally dressed and ready to go down to the kitchen to make breakfast, it was six in the morning, and they were both surprised at how quiet the house was.

  
“Where’s Sam?” Dean murmured when they walked by his room and realized it was deserted.

 

Castiel shrugged. “I think maybe he and Jess cleared out last night…you were pretty loud on our second go-round.”

 

Dean consulted his phone once they were in the kitchen and found a note from Sam explaining that he and Jess went to Bobby’s so as not to be mentally scarred by Cas and Dean.

 

“Little bitch,” Dean said fondly, shaking his head.

 

Castiel smiled and pulled the buttermilk out of the fridge. Together they made pancakes and bacon, then sat down at the table and ate from only one plate, the way they liked to do.

 

“What time you get off work tonight?” Dean asked between a bite.

 

“Five. What do you have going on today? The Hunt is just about in town now, right?”

 

Dean nodded. “I have three cases to look into, and will probably get a few walk-ins.” He looked uncomfortable for a few moments. “Look, Cas, there are two guys who freelance for me from time to time, Walt and Roy. I think they’re kinda jealous of what we have. Anyway, I just want you to be careful of them.”

 

Castiel grinned at Dean, torn between finding him adorable and touched by his concern. “I am a full Angel of the Lord now, Dean. No one can harm me. Especially not your Human friends.”

 

“They’re Hunters, Cas. Not necessarily Human,” Dean said sternly.

 

Castiel smiled again. “Yes, Dean, I will be careful,” he murmured contritely, holding a bite of pancake up to Dean’s lips.

 

Dean took the bite and chewed while keeping eye contact with Castiel. “I don’t think I like your tone,” he decided.

 

“Are you going to spank me like an errant fledgling?”

 

Green eyes narrowed. “I just might do that.”

 

“Good to know,” Castiel decided, standing up and taking the plate to the sink.

 

Dean stalked after him, crowding him against the drainboard and delivering a hearty smack to his backside. Castiel yelped and started laughing, making Dean laugh too.

 

And that was how Jess and Sam found them when they came home, Dean holding Castiel to his chest with both arms, laughing, biting his ear, and Castiel grinning like a rakish imp.

 

“Oh great,” Sam deadpanned. “They’re still at it.”

 

Dean looked at his brother over his shoulder. “In fifty years from now, you’ll be saying the same thing,” he promised.

 

Sam muttered something that sounded like, “God save us all,” and Jess cooed over how cute she thought they were.

 

“Okay, okay,” Dean said gruffly, wrapping one arm around Castiel’s shoulders, holding him in front of him and resting his chin on Castiel’s shoulder. “We have some things to discuss. I had Becky get a contractor to draw up some plans to turn the attic into an apartment for me and Cas if you two lovebirds want to nest on the second floor. I thought we could turn Dad’s old study into an apartment for Adam. We might have to break into the library to do it, but…what do you think? And if you don’t want to, it won’t hurt my feelings, I’m just putting it—“

 

“Dean, shut up,” Sam said, grinning ear to ear. “Yes! Yes, of course we want to live here! I mean…but you’ll soundproof, right?”

 

Dean let go of Castiel and pulled his brother into a headlock, no mean feat considering Sam was a good four inches taller and nearly twice as broad. “Yes! Soundproofing for all our rooms! You know, you two are pretty loud too, _Sama-lama-ding-dong_.”

 

Sam managed to push Dean away, and he and Jess both stood with mouths slightly open, blushes staining their cheeks.

 

“I, uh…guess the walls in these old houses are pretty thin?” Jess squeaked from behind her hands.

 

“It’s all right, Jess,” Castiel said helpfully. “I’ve learned quite a bit about human anatomy when you two play “Naughty Nurse.””

 

“Yeah,” Dean smirked. “We especially like when Sam puts on the nurse’s uniform.”

 

“I wear scrubs!” Sam snapped, his neck turning purple. He rubbed his hands over his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh my god…”

 

“Yes,” Castiel deadpanned. “That is what you often say.”

 

Jess started laughing, which was the only thing that kept them all from wanting to die right then and there.

 

“Okay,” Sam said when they were calm again. “New rule: we don’t snark on each other’s sexcapades.”

 

“Right,” Dean agreed. He had sunk to the floor at some point and dragged Castiel into his lap as he did so. “But Adam’s still open season.”

 

“Oh,” Jess said, narrowing her eyes and nodding, “totally yes.”

 

“Agreed,” Sam said.

 

}O{

 

“I’ll get it!” Heidi said brightly when the doorbell rang. Loki hardly looked up from the haunted gingerbread house he was currently decorating and grunted. He was busy trying to affix a pulled sugar ghost that he had made himself onto one of the gables using purple frosting when he heard his wife exclaim in surprise. Abandoning the gingerbread house, Loki went to investigate their visitor, bag of purple frosting still in hand. When he saw who was standing at the door, the bag of frosting fell to the floor, leaking purple goo onto the white marble of the foyer.

 

“Heidi, go upstairs now,” he commanded quietly, eyes not straying from the person currently staring at him in shock and awe. He barely saw Heidi duck past him and run up the stairs, her feet squeaking ever so slightly as she beat a hasty retreat.

 

He should have known they’d find him eventually.

 

It was amazing that it took this long, really.

 

“Gabriel,” Michael breathed, sounding as shocked as Loki currently felt.

 

“Michael,” he said back, stepping forward, feeling his grace reacting to his brother’s, his wings unfurling from their hidden place, his masks and glamours melting away under the steady gaze of Heaven’s best and brightest warrior. Suddenly, Loki shook himself and brought all of his disguises and protections back into himself, and took a large step backwards. “What do you want?” he asked evenly.

 

Michael gaped like a fish out of water. “I…I…Gabriel!”

 

“I go by Loki now,” Loki snapped. “I left all that behind, just like…” just like Father had left all of them behind too.

 

“Gabriel, I have looked for you for decades!”

 

Loki felt his chest constrict. “Well you can’t have looked too hard,” he spat. “I’ve been here on this earth for a thousand years!”

 

Loki only got a brief sense of satisfaction at Michael’s stricken look, then felt deep shame over his outburst. Only family could take a thousand-year-old deity and make him feel like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum.

 

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Gabe,” Michael said quietly, making Loki feel even worse. Mikey had always done the best he could for the family and the other Angels. He took over, took on the responsibility for running Heaven, fighting Hell, trying to make their Father’s plan continue and grow. The fact that Michael had decided to come to Earth could only mean that even he had finally lost faith and decided to give up on Heaven too.

 

“Please, Mikey, I have a life here,” Loki whispered, pleading with Michael to understand. “Whatever it is you need, I just  _can’t_.”

 

“What about us, Gabe?” Michael asked, his face getting hard. “Raffie, Az, Lucifer! What about Lucifer, he’s been looking for you too.”

 

A painful twist jerked at Loki’s gut. The mention of Lucifer was a low blow. Lucifer had been his surrogate as he was growing, like a father to him. Michael and the other Archangels had all been busy with other things, but Lucifer had always made time for Gabriel-Cum-Loki, the youngest little Archangel. How ironic that he was the first to Earth, the first to want to leave Heaven and the security and fellowship there.

 

“I don’t know,” Loki said, turning away. “I...I just don’t know, Mike.”

 

Michael put his hand on Loki’s shoulder, then abruptly brought him close, wrapping him in a warm hug. It was in Loki to renounce his Pagan family and regain his Heavenly brethren, but he had so much hurt, so much pride, he just couldn’t. Not yet. Maybe if it was Lucifer holding him, but with Michael, he could still hold onto all of that baggage.

 

“You stink like a Winchester, Mikey,” Loki grumbled, pulling away from his brother and looking up at him. “I can see it with Cassie, but you?”

 

Michael shrugged, completely unapologetic. “He’s the reason I’m here, actually,” he said, a smile twisting his lips.

 

Loki raised a hand. “No, no more Winchesters. I’m done with them. I told Dean how to kill the Fairy that’s plaguing his fam, and I’m outie. If your boy toy is in trouble, you take care of it.”

 

“Gabriel…”

 

“Loki!” he snapped.

 

Michael rolled his eyes. “Fine, Loki. I promised my mate I’d ask you for advice—“

 

Loki sighed heavily. “I mean it, Mikey, I’m done with the Winchesters. If you want to mate with them, have lots of little babies, that’s your nevermind—“

 

“What did I do to you, Gabe?” Michael asked, his tone dejected and slightly defensive. “What did I do? What did Lucifer do? How…how did we hurt you? What can I do to make it right?” He approached Loki slowly and put his hands on his shoulders. “Our family is completely torn apart, we’re all we have left, and…”

 

Loki turned away, his resolve crumbling. “What do you need for your mate?” If he could keep things less personal, then he could get Michael out of there and not have to think about this, about how his life had been turned upside down by an absentee father and overbearing siblings.

 

Michael’s sigh was soft and resigned. “The Winchesters think that it would be best if John were the one to kill the Fairy since he is the head of the family, and Adam is worried that John and Sam could be harmed.”

 

“Oh, I guess I should have thought of that,” Loki said with a nod, wiping at the tears that were threatening to fall. “Ah, yes, it should be John who kills Azazel, but he’ll have to ask Odin’s permission since it’s a personal matter and not a directive from The Allfather.”

 

Michael frowned. “Surely Odin will approve…John is his servant?”

 

Loki gave a hollow laugh. “Odin is not likely to grant John Winchester any more favors after all he’s done for John’s family.”

 

“What exactly has he done for John’s family?”

 

Loki was unsurprised that the Winchester boys had no idea about their father’s sacrifice. It seemed that he and the Archangels weren’t the only ones with a father who simply left one day without saying why or offering any excuses. “John agreed to serve Odin for all of eternity if Odin agreed to not lay claim to any of John’s sons. They now all have normal lives as long as John remains with the Wild Hunt. Most Hunters are released to death after a few hundred years, and the life is hard. John is basically living in a never-ending hell in order to keep his sons from Odin’s hand. The minute John leaves the Hunt, any male Winchesters will immediately be pressed into Odin’s service, whether he is mated or not.”

 

Michael’s face went through several expressions. “So…Sam Winchester’s son…”

 

“If John were to leave the hunt tomorrow, the minute Baby Winchester is brought into the world, Odin will snatch him up. Even an infant.”

 

“Adam certainly doesn’t know about this…does Dean?”

 

Loki shook his head. “I doubt it. Would you tell your son the sacrifices you were making for him?”

 

“I suppose not,” Michael conceded. “But still…Adam thinks his father just abandoned him when he was a child to chase after monsters. He thinks John didn’t care enough about him to stay.”

 

“It’s not our business, Mikey.”

 

“If you call me Mikey, I get to call you Gabriel,” Michael threatened.

 

Loki tilted his head in acquiescence. “Fine. Just don’t tell anyone about me.”

 

Michael narrowed his eyes. “What about Lucifer, Gabriel?”

 

That damned pain twisted his heart again. “I don’t know.”

 

“Help me with this issue, and I won’t say anything to Lucifer for a month,” Michael said.

 

At least bargaining was one step closer to acceptance. “Fine,” Loki conceded. “I’ll go to Odin on behalf of John Winchester and make him see how he will benefit from allowing John to take Azazel down. You need to leave now, Mikey. I…I need to think.”

 

Michael pulled Loki into a hug. “Please come back to us, brother. Please.”

 

Loki watched his brother out the door, standing in one place, memories flooding upon him whether he welcomed them or not.

 

_Gabriel was trying hard to not cry._

_“Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,” he chanted to himself._

_“Hey, sweetling,” Lucifer said brightly, coming up behind Gabriel and pulling his back tight against his chest, resting his chin on Gabriel’s head. “What’s the matter, hmmm?”_

_Gabriel sniffled. “Az, Raffie and Sariel said I couldn’t play with them,” he sniveled._

_Lucifer hefted Gabriel into his arms. “Bah, who wants to play with a bunch of females when you can come with me and Michael to the practice ring?”_

_Gabriel’s eyes widened. “Really? I can? But I’m still a fledgling!”_

_Lucifer shrugged, apparently unconcerned with the proprieties that Master Joshua held so dear._

_It was the last time Lucifer would ever be able to smooth over Gabriel’s feelings by distracting him. After that, for Gabriel, his life was a misery. No one tried to hurt him, not overtly. It just happened that way. He wasn’t the smartest, strongest, fastest, or anything-est. He was just Gabriel. And he didn’t matter to anyone. When the opportunity presented itself to be an Earth-Dweller, he jumped at it, and it was great. Loki was born and Gabriel went away._

“I heard him leave,” Heidi said, quietly walking down the stairs.

 

Loki swiped at his eyes and made sure all his glamours were close to him, keeping his identity safe. “He’s gone.”

 

Heidi tucked herself under his arm and kissed his cheek. “You okay?”

 

Loki looked down at his wife, taking in her wide, blue concerned eyes under her pretty arched blonde brows. Her golden hair swept down her back, and she was wearing the ugliest Halloween sweater he’d ever seen and he loved her for it. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I love you.”

 

Heidi wasn’t stupid. One of the reasons he’d fallen in love with her was because she was so smart, so he wasn’t surprised when she narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you ever going to tell me the truth?”

 

Loki sighed. “ _Ja, schatzie,”_ he murmured, kissing her forehead. “Just…I have to think, okay?”

 

 And he had to go talk to Odin…

 

“Come on, sweetling. We’ve got haunted gingerbread houses to decorate.”

 

Heidi let herself be led back to the kitchen, but her shrewd glances let Loki know that he’d need to come clean soon. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too angry at him.  

 

}O{

 

On his way to work, Dean noticed strange looks from his Supernatural brethren. Some would smile, others would scowl, and a few just looked plain confused. Dean understood confused, because it was how he felt. What was going on? The Vampire barrista even mumbled something that sounded like “congratulations” when Dean stopped in to get coffee for himself and something frothy, fruity and sugary for Becky.

 

He shouldered his way into the office, a box of pastries in one hand, the cups in the other.

 

“Hey, Boss, I…Oh my GOD!” the sprite squealed, clapping her hands and jumping up and down. “Oh, super wow, Dean! You did it!”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “What did I do?”

 

Becky rolled her eyes in a good natured way. “You got married! To your Angel.” Her tone was so matter-of-fact that it actually took Dean by surprise.

 

“I did what now?”

 

“Well, okay, you bonded. But you and your Angel. You’re together now. I’ve really been pulling for you two, too.” She was so happy, her iridescent wings fluttering and bouncing as she shook out her pretty blonde hair and smiled winningly at Dean. His little cheerleader. She could be annoyingly intrusive when it came to his life, and she had a really ill-advised crush on Sam, but Dean couldn’t help but find her endearing.

 

“Thanks, Becky. That’s really good to know.” He set her cup down on her desk and took one of the raspberry scones out of the pastry box and set it next to her coffee. “What’s the plan for today?”

 

Becky’s smile changed. It got…tighter. “The Hunt’s in town now. You have a visitor in your office.”

 

Dean’s chest tightened and he went to his office door, opening it. Standing at the window was a tall, dark-haired man dressed in old-fashioned trousers and tunic. The arms of the tunic were bound with leather and brown boots were laced over the trousers. A jerkin was belted over the tunic, and he had an actual quiver of arrows on his back and a sword on his belt.

 

“Dad.”

 

John Winchester turned, his eyes glowing golden under his dark brows. He stopped aging once he joined the hunt, so he was forever forty-five, just a touch of silver at his temples. “Dean!” John breathed happily, crossing the small room quickly and pulling his son into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you, son…so much!” He pushed Dean away and held him at arm’s length, his eyes roving up and down Dean’s body. Dean tensed, knowing that if Becky saw the bond, then John must as well. “What did you do, Dean?”

 

Dean swallowed. The emotions that roiled within him whenever he saw his father were always at odds with each other. Love tempered by hate, hope tempered by disappointment, fear clashing with resolve. John always left him feeling confused, angry, loved, wishing him away and wishing he’d stay forever all at once. It was exhausting. “I met someone, Dad. Castiel. He’s an Angel.” There was so much more news to tell, too. Sam and Jess and the baby, his plans for the house, how Adam was doing at school…

 

“He makes you happy?” John asked, his eyes searching Dean’s.

 

Dean frowned. “Yeah. Of course he does.” He couldn’t help smiling when he thought about Castiel. “I love him, Dad.”

 

John smiled at Dean and clapped him on the shoulder. Were those tears in his eyes? “Good, Dean. I’m so glad.” John shook his head and turned back to the window. “I’m so glad,” he repeated, making Dean’s frown deepen. “And your brothers? How are they?”

 

“They’re great, Dad. You’ll see them, won’t you?” He didn’t feel it was his place to tell John about Sam’s baby news.

 

John turned back to Dean. “Of course I’ll see them! I miss them…” he cut himself off and went back to staring at the parking lot.

 

Dean cleared his throat. He decided to talk to John about killing Azazel. That way, if John refused, Dean could break the news to Sam himself. He wasn’t sure what Sam’s reaction would be if he heard John’s refusal himself. “So, Dad, remember Azazel?”

 

John scoffed. “How could I forget? What about him? Is he giving Sam trouble still?” John gave Dean a searching look.

 

“Well, yeah. And…um, he sort of threatened Jess and we’ve decided to be rid of him. Loki gave me a way to kill him, but Bobby thinks it’d be best if either you or Sam did the deed. Something about Fairies and propriety.”

 

John nodded and sat across from Dean at the desk. “I think Bobby’s right. If you did it, it could be viewed as murder, but if Sam or I did it, they’d call it justifiable. Fairies are sort of weird.”

 

“Will you do it?”

 

John hedged. “If Odin gives me permission, yes. I’ll request an audience with him immediately.”

 

Dean narrowed his eyes. “It’s your job as a Hunter to kill these sonsabitches. Isn’t that Odin’s Great Commission to you?”

 

“Don’t start with me, Dean,” John warned. “I kill monsters like Rugarus, Windigos, Vampires and Werewolves that have gone feral. Fairies and Sprites are considered to be more towards the Human part of the equation. And this is personal, which complicates things. I have to ask permission.”

 

“He wouldn’t say no, would he?” Dean couldn’t think of a reason why Odin would.

 

John looked down at his hands, his face unsure. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but…it’s complicated.”

 

All of Dean’s old feelings grated on his nerves. It was always this way with John. He didn’t know why, but everything his father did just annoyed the spit out of him. “Well, we need to know as soon as possible.”

 

“I understand, Dean. I’ll take care of it immediately. I promise.”

 

Dean nodded, feeling like there was still a huge missing piece to the puzzle. “I can go with you. If he understands—“

 

“No!” John nearly shouted. “No, don’t go near Odin, Dean. You hear me? And keep Sam from him, too. I can’t…you can’t…”

 

And there it was again. The desperation to keep Dean away from the being John left his family for. He felt irritation at John’s helpless look. “What aren’t you telling me, Dad?”

 

John shook his head. “Just promise me you’ll stay away from Odin and keep your brothers away from him too. I don’t choose my life for you boys. You have an anchor now, Dean. Hold onto him.”

 

Dean’s intercom rang, and he turned away from his father to start conducting the business of the day. There was a phone call from the Sherriff about some mysterious deaths that seemed connected, and as Dean began to take care of those issues, John excused himself to join his Hunting brothers at the hall Odin had set up in the woods for them. He promised again as Dean was taking notes to talk to the god, and Dean nodded, waving his dad away. John might have chosen this odd life over his own family, but Dean had faith that if John said he’d do something, he’d do it.

 

On his way to the Sheriff’s office, Dean shot a text to his brothers, Jess and Castiel to tell them that John was in town. Sam and Adam’s responses were reserved, Jess was excited to tell him about the baby, and Castiel’s was nervous but hopeful. Dean assured his, well, husband, he supposed, that John would love him, and then got lost in the process of his work.

 

The deaths were connected in some way. Dean stood in the coroner’s office, the County Medical Examiner walking him through the various similarities in the two bodies.

 

“It could just be a serial killer,” Dean mused as he lifted the arm of the first young man, staring at the deep laceration in his wrist. “Humans can be monsters too, you know.”

 

The coroner shrugged. “All I can tell you is that this wasn’t done by a blade, more like by a claw of some sort, but there’s only one. And both were done with the same implement.”

 

Dean sighed. A claw. Just one. “Like a cat claw, or…”

 

“Judging by the size of the laceration, it’d be a claw roughly the width of your forefinger, and sharp. Incredibly sharp.”

 

“But only one laceration to make it look like suicide,” Dean murmured, dropping the dead kid’s arm. “How much blood is missing?”

 

The coroner moved to where his notes were. “This is why I asked the Sheriff to call you in the first place; a good deal is missing. They were both found in a pool, of course, but it was more like whoever killed them was trying to make it seem like they bled out to mask the fact that a good deal of blood was missing.”

 

Dean nodded. “Okay, something has huge claws and drinks blood. Awesome. I’ll do some research and get back to you. Let me know if you find anything to help, like fur or feathers or scales.”

 

“Sure thing, Mr. Winchester.”

 

Dean winced at the name and left. No one ever called him “Mr. Winchester.” Just the coroner. He went back to the office and started compiling notes, interrupting his research only when Becky had to call him for one reason or another. At lunch, he took Becky to the diner and was surprised to see Michael there with Lucifer. He walked up to them and they both immediately stopped talking to look up at him, but not in anger, just expectant.

 

“Uh…hey,” Dean said lamely, trying to ignore Becky fluttering behind him.

 

“Dean,” Lucifer said, looking him up and down slowly, his lips twitching just slightly.

 

“Oh, I nearly forgot, on top of all that, Cassie’s memories are now fully intact,” Michael said obliquely.

 

A ghost of a smile fluttered over Lucifer’s lips. “So I see. Wow, he really left his mark on you Dean.”

 

Michael looked away, a slight pink tinting his cheeks, but Lucifer continued to boldly examine Dean, his eyes resting on Dean’s shoulder where Castiel’s handprint was. Dean didn’t know why he was surprised that Lucifer could see the mark through all his layers of clothes.

 

“Forgive my brother, Dean, it’s just that neither of us would have expected Castiel to be so…” he cleared his throat and looked Dean up and down as well, “possessive,” he finished lamely, turning to Lucifer with a scowl. “Really, Lu, it’s none of our business.”

 

Lucifer shrugged and finally peeled his eyes away from Dean. “I think it’s cute,” Becky pronounced from behind Dean. This made all of them chuckle a bit.

 

“You would,” Lucifer said, but in a good-natured way, his lips quirking. “Sorry, Dean, but…imagine you saw your brother’s girlfriend directly after sex one day, with the hair all rumpled, body barely concealed by the sheet and, ah…evidence…uh…splattered on her…”

 

“Well, I  _was_  planning on eating here,” Dean grumbled.

 

“It’s not nearly as lurid and vulgar as my brother is making it out to be,” Michael said pointedly. “But it is…somewhat accurate.”

 

Dean narrowed his eyes. “So it must sort of make you two feel uncomfortable to be around me right now, huh?” At their answering silence, Dean smiled hugely. “Scootch over, Lucie, I feel like joining my two new in-laws for lunch. Becky, why don’tcha hunker on down next to Mike there.”

 

}O{

 

Dean’s day ended up being long and wearying and at five o’clock, it still wasn’t over. He needed to meet up with his family at The Roadhouse. It was going to be as hard as work because all he wanted to do was go home and sink both physically and emotionally into Castiel, but family togetherness was every bit as important as spending time with his new life partner.

 

 

At the bar, he found his dad, Loki, Michael, Adam and Jess all sitting around two of the round tables and Michael’s arm was resting casually on the back of Adam’s chair. Dean raised an eyebrow at that, but then pushed away any thoughts of Michael making designs on his brother almost immediately. Michael just didn’t seem the type.

 

“What’s going on over here?” he asked, dragging a chair over with his foot. He looked around for any sign of Castiel, but the bar was not incredibly full at the moment, and he didn’t see a tan trench coat anywhere.

 

“He’s not here yet, Dean-O,” Loki smirked.

 

Dean narrowed his eyes at the god. “I haven’t seen you around here in a while.”

 

Loki shrugged and lifted his bowl of mead. “Your little visit the other day made me miss the place.”

 

Dean didn’t miss the look Michael gave him, but shrugged it off. The Archangel was probably feeling a little strange sitting at a table with a god.

 

“Loki has gone to Odin on my behalf to ask about my killing Azazel,” John explained to Dean. “I had no idea he would do that.”

 

Loki gave John a deferential nod. “I promised Dean I’d help him in this matter, and in return he’s allowing my wife and me to have a little fun for Halloween.”

 

“So…Odin gave permission?” Dean asked, looking at Jess’s hopeful face.

 

“He did,” John confirmed, then turned to Jess. “Dean told me Azazel tried to kill you?”

 

Jess blushed. “Um…Sam should come over here.”

 

Dean turned in his seat and caught his brother’s eye. Within seconds, Sam was standing by the table. Jess took his hand, and smiled happily at John, her hand going to her belly.

 

“We’re expecting,” she said happily, glowing.

 

John stared at the pair of them in shock, then stood up and pulled Sam into a bone-crushing hug. Sam’s face split into a huge smile as he hugged his dad back, and something tugged and twisted in Dean’s gut. He felt…so many things. He was jealous of his dad, since his happiness was apparently so important to Sam, and he felt jealous of Sam too because announcing a pregnancy was something Dean would never be able to do unless he used a surrogate, and…

 

He turned away before he let it sour his mood, and it turned out to be the right moment, because Castiel had just walked in, his eyes immediately going to Dean’s. Dean felt so comfortable with Cas’s presence so near him. He could communicate with his mate using emotion rather than words, which were a little too complicated at the moment. Dean stood and Castiel’s hand slipped into his, and then the Angel was moving into his space, wrapping an arm around his neck and lifting his face for a kiss. Dean nuzzled their noses together, basking in Castiel’s calm, reassuring presence, feeling his love and assurance through their bond, forgetting about everyone around them for the moment.

 

“Don’t worry, they’re always like this,” he heard Sam say, and that statement was punctuated by the good-natured chuckles of everyone at the table.

 

Reluctantly, Dean broke away from Castiel and the little bubble they had created for themselves. “Um, Dad, this is Castiel, Angel of Thursday. He’s my…husband, I guess you could say. Cas, this is John Winchester, my dad.”

 

John smiled at Castiel and pulled him into a one-armed hug. “It is so good to meet you, Cas,” John said with sincerity. “I’m so happy that Dean’s found his mate.”

 

Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand and pulled away from John to stand next to Dean again. “Thank you, John. I am happy to have found Dean as well.”

 

John had never really understood Dean’s preference for men, but he had been as happy with Victor as the rest of the family when Dean clearly needed his influence in his life, and then been just as relieved a few years later when they broke up. John had hated Benny immediately, which made Dean like him even more, which meant he was even more devastated when Benny broke up with him, but Dean figured he was over that bit of rebellion since he was relieved that his dad had accepted Castiel without making faces or trying to appear straight-yet-accepting-of-the-gay-lifestyle like he usually did.

 

They all sat down again and Sam went back to the bar when Dean noticed Loki was gone.

 

“I don’t think he was planning on staying,” Michael said, looking around, a frown deeply etched on his face. Dean missed the look Adam gave Michael just then.

 

“Maybe Angels make him uncomfortable,” Dean said with a shrug.

 

Michael hummed in agreement and was quiet after that.

 

Jo came to get their orders and give John a hug.

 

“Hey, what about us?” Dean asked when the others had given their orders and Jo turned to go.

 

“Oh please,” she said with an eyeroll. “Like you two aren’t going to get the Lover Boy Special.”

 

Michael actually joined Adam and Jess in their light laughter and Dean glared at him.

 

“What’s the Lover Boy Special?” John asked when Jo was gone.

 

“Dean and Castiel have an unusual way of breaking bread together,” Michael said in his deep, low voice. He wasn’t accusing, but rather deeply amused.

 

“I’ve got to see this,” John said, obviously trying way too hard, but in a way that made Dean feel good rather than judged.

 

“Oh, we’ve all got pictures on our phones,” Adam said, pulling his out. Dean groaned when Michael, Jess, Sam, Jo and Ellen all did the same. John looked at the pictures and laughed heartily at all of them, still trying too hard, but it didn’t annoy Dean as much now. Everyone accepted Cas.

 

Without thinking, Dean leaned over and kissed Castiel, making everyone at the tables “awwww” in an exaggerated manner. He glared at them all, especially his dad and Adam, but then shrugged and kissed Cas again.

 

 _I love you,_  Cas said clearly through their bond.

 

 _I want to take you to the bathroom and suck you off,_  Dean thought back, trying to convey how good he felt with Cas’s dick in his mouth and how much he loved the feel and flavor. When Castiel blushed and looked down at his lap, the feeling of arousal coming in strongly, making Dean want him even more.

 

“Do they have eye sex all the time, too?” John asked.

 

“We’re just trying to ride out the honeymoon phase,” Jess grinned. “But come on, they’re cute!”

 

“Yeah, real cute. I love seeing my brother eye-fuck his Angel,” Adam groused.

 

Sam brought a round of drinks to the table and set one in front of Adam. “Watch it, kid. Dean, Jess, Cas

 

and I have all agreed that we aren’t going to tease each other about our relationships anymore, but you’re still open season. So, unless you want us to start discussing your current sexcapades…”

 

Adam held up his hands. “I surrender!” he practically shouted. “I surrender! Let’s talk about sports or killing Azazel or something!”

 

Dean sent an apologetic look to Michael, sure that the Archangel didn’t really want to hear about tawdry human sexual encounters, but Michal’s face was closed off. Dean suddenly wondered what the Archangel was actually doing there, but then Castiel put his hand on his knee and Dean got the impression that Cas was glad to have some of his old family back, so he decided to let it go. Besides, Lucifer and Michael were brothers, and Castiel and Balthazar were apparently very close, so it stood to reason that Michael would now be included in whatever Lucifer and Balthazar were similarly included in.

 

Through his bond with Castiel, Dean felt a surge of gratitude at his resignation to Michael joining the family.

 

“Michael is still a very dear friend,” Cas mumbled, taking Dean’s hand. “And he is very honorable. You can trust him.”

 

Dean leaned down and kissed his head. “I trust you, babe. That’s all that matters.”

 

Something twinged between them, and Dean got the impression that there was something Cas wasn’t telling him. He would have asked about it, but then Jo brought the burgers, two on one plate, and set it down between the two of them.

 

“Oh, ha ha, Joanna Beth,” Dean snarked.

 

Jo shrugged and turned away, her ponytail swishing as she went, her laughter ringing out behind her. Dean turned all of his attention to dinner and the plans to take on Azazel, thoughts of how Michael fit into the family slipping from his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep giving myself Daddy!Lucifer feels. My next fic might have to be Samifer, because I can't make Balthazar a dad for some reason. But Samifer could be...hmm. I think I'd like that.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I swear this story is not abandoned. It will be finished if it's the last thing I ever do! (It might be the last thing I ever do.)
> 
> In case you didn't know, I'm on Tumblr as r2metoo and twitter as artoometoo

Michael slowed his thrusts, drawing out Adam's pleasure. Adam arched against him in response, running his lips over Michael's neck, scraping at him with his teeth. Michael lost himself in the sensation, loving the way Adam's fingers dug into his back, the way his thighs cradled him, the tight heat of him.

"There,  _there_ ," Adam moaned breathlessly. "Yes, that's it! Mike!"

Michael loved the way Adam came with his entire body, the way his eyes fluttered and his body shook and his fingernails dug in deep, hips thrusting, hole clenching. He was beautiful in his pleasure, so much so that Michael would almost forget his own simply because Adam was so  _perfect_.

Michael finished with a grunt, collapsing against Adam for a few moments before rolling off and forgetting they were on Adam's impossibly tiny dorm room bed. He tried to glare at Adam for laughing when he fell off, but he couldn't quite muster it. He liked Adam's laugh too much.

"Thanks for flying me home," Adam murmured, snuggling into him when he got back into the narrow bed.

"I told you that I'm here for you, Adam. No concern of yours is too small for me."

Adam looked at the clock. "Do you have to go?"

"I don't require sleep, beloved. I can stay for a while."

Adam smiled and grabbed a tissue from his bedside, swiping them both off. It was a kind gesture that Michael appreciated. When Adam sleepily dropped his head onto Michael's chest, however, Michael used his Grace to clean them both properly.

"Hey, are you…are you upset that we haven't said anything to Dean and Sam yet?" Adam asked, his voice worried and a little high.

Michael tightened his hold on the boy and kissed his forehead. "No, I'm happy to have you to myself just now. And I do not welcome the good-natured jocularity that will most assuredly follow any announcement we might make."

"You know Dean's going to be pissed, right?"

Michael huffed. "Well, pissed seems to be Dean's default mode for just about everything, so yes, I suppose I assumed he'd be upset. But he'll get over it. He took my mate from me, I don't see how he has any room to talk."

Adam stiffened in his arms and pulled away, grabbing his boxers from the floor, then moving to the tiny fridge for a bottle of water. Michael figured out that he had said the wrong thing. He scrounged for his own underwear and the jeans he had been wearing.

"Look, Adam, about Castiel…it was never with him like it is with you. Upon my honor, I would never…"

"When you went home with me, was it to get back at Dean? If you say yes, I won't be mad." Adam's face was set in a hard line, his hand clenched. He looked resolved to Michael's answer.

Michael just let out a humorless chuckle. "I didn't even know who you were…I just liked the way your ass looked in your jeans."

Adam's hand unclenched just a bit. "You didn't know Dean was my brother?"

Michael shook his head. "You had said that  _Sam_  was your brother, but I didn't know anything about him. I thought maybe, because of the way you were looking at Dean and Castiel that perhaps you had a crush on one of them? And then you asked if I wanted to go, and I thought, well, that we would maybe use each other to get over them." Michael moved closer to Adam and stroked his hand up his arm. "I certainly did not anticipate liking you as much as I do."

Adam turned into Michael's embrace, kissing his shoulder, grabbing him by the waist. "Yeah, I…I guess I sort of thought I'd have a one-nighter with you and then just write you off, but I can't."

"And therefore you wish to tell your brothers about me."

Adam nodded. "I want them to like you, but…it just doesn't look like Dean ever will. Our age difference…"

Michael snorted and hooked an arm around Adam, pulling him close. "Trust me, beloved, Dean has a lot of living to do before he catches up to Castiel. And his body count needs to rise impressively in order to match his mate's as well."

"Dean won't see it that way."

Michael started to walk Adam back towards the bed. This didn't take long considering the size of the dorm room. He pushed Adam down and shucked his jeans and shorts in one movement, then grabbed Adam's boxers and did away with those too. "I notice you don't mention Sam. Will he be more accepting?"

Adam's breath hitched when Michael wrapped his hand around him. "Yanno, I really don't want to talk about my brothers when you have your hand on my cock. Wait!" Adam scrabbled at Michael's hand when he took it away. "I didn't mean to stop!"

Michael chuckled darkly and leaned over Adam, bracing his forearms on either side of the boy's head. "If you wish for me to interpret your words differently, you'll need to articulate your feelings better."

"Fuck! You're a real bastard, you know that?"

Michael teased two fingers down Adam's neck, lightly caressing his collarbone until tiny goosebumps stood out all over his torso. "I'm the best interrogator of the entire garrison. The only one who is more adept at torture is Lucifer. I think you're in excellent hands, my boy."

Adam narrowed his gaze and parted his knees, causing Michael to sink between his thighs. Instantly, all of the places that wanted a little more contact with Adam were getting them, and then Adam raised his knees up so his entrance was just…

Michael met that narrow blue gaze with one dark, arched eyebrow. "Oh, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to play this game?"

Adam had the gall to smirk. "Bring it, Mikey."

All of the important things Michael felt they needed to talk about were suddenly lost in the challenge of making his boyfriend beg like the little bitch he was. Michael pulled him apart and put him back together again, and then finally some three hours later, decided it was best to leave Adam to his dreams. The boy did have classes later on that day, and Michael wanted him to be awake and aware, so he left for his home where he went through his usual routine to ready himself for the day.

}O{

Gilda clearly did not appreciate being summoned. In fact, Castiel would say she looked downright insulted.

"Castiel? What is the meaning of this?"

"I need your help," he said. "And…and I'd like to know how Charlie is?"

Gilda frowned at him. "Well, if you'd have given me some warning, I would have brought her with me!" Gilda sat down on one of the chairs in Dean's living room. "Well? What's this about then?"

Dean explained the situation and their plans. "We thought since you were Castiel's friend and a Fairy, you could tell us how this will go in the end. Normally I wouldn't care, I'd just do it, but…"

"But you're mated now, your brother is going to be a father soon, and you realize that it's time to grow up," Gilda supplied succinctly. She looked around the room. "Well, there may be an inquiry by the High Council, but I think Azazel has fallen out of favor with most Fairies, so the retribution if any shouldn't be too bad."

"If he's fallen out of favor, then why don't your people do anything?" Sam practically snapped. It was very uncharacteristic of him, which made Castiel startle just a bit.

"I'm not privy to that information," Gilda said calmly. "I'm a lower ranking Fairy, but I hear things." She looked around the room. "Look, this makes me very uncomfortable, Castiel. I am essentially bound to your mate at the moment. Please tell him to give me my freedom! I'll bring Charlie so you can see her, I promise, just…release me!"

Dean frowned. "How do I do that?"

Gilda sighed. "You tell me that I am released."

"Okay. You're released."

Gilda took a deep breath and nodded. "Thank you. I…I understand that you did not understand what you were doing, so I will not take offense."

Sam and Dean shared a look. "You mean since Dean summoned you, you were beholden to him?"

Gilda nodded. "May I go now and retrieve Charlie? We will be back shortly."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, take your time."

When she was gone, he turned back to Sam. Castiel decided to go and make tea since he could hear the brothers talk from any room in the house.

"So when we use the summoning spell, it puts the fairy under our command?" Sam asked in wonder.

"I guess so. I have a feeling this is going to bite us in the ass when we summon Azazel."

"He'll be pissed, that's for sure."

Castiel dropped a teabag into a cup and worried about Dean. Charlie might have been under Dean's thrall, but she clearly still had her powers. If she had wanted to, she could have used them.

"Well, I don't want Jess anywhere near him when we summon him."

"We'll do it outside of town so he can't hurt Cas or Jess or anyone."

Castiel smiled. As though Dean could go without him.

Then suddenly the brothers were shouting, and Castiel heard a familiar voice say, "What up, bitches?"

He dropped his tea things and went running into the living room. "Charlie!"

She turned and smiled. "Hey, Cas!"

Castiel moved forward quickly, catching her in his arms and swinging her around. "I've missed you!"

"Me too, let me get a look at you."

He held her out at arms' length and reached up a hand to stroke her bangs out of her face. Her hair was much shorter and cut like a pixie. Bright orange strands were mixed in with her usual red, and he couldn't help but think she looked like a candle.

"Check out your halo, Cas!" she laughed. "Gilda told me you were an Angel, but wow."

Castiel rubbed the back of his neck in an unconscious imitation of Dean. "Yes, I've heard it's quite bright."

Charlie moved in for another hug and then looked around the room. Gilda, Dean, and Sam were all standing off to one side, trying to look like they weren't watching and clearly feeling uncomfortable.

"Hey, so, you gonna introduce me to your handsome companions," Charlie asked, nudging him. "Don't tell me you're not interested in at least one."

Castiel laughed. "Well, you're actually partially responsible for this, but, Charlie, I'd like you to meet Dean. He's my mate."

Charlie's eyes got huge. "Mate? You're mated? Whoa…how long have I been gone?"

Castiel blushed. "Only about a month…"

Charlie clapped him on the shoulder. "Good going, Cas! Look at you! I knew you had it in you. Well, introduce us?"

Castiel took her hand and led her over to Dean. "Dean, this is Charlie. She's my best friend."

Dean held out his hand, but Charlie wasn't one for standing on ceremony. She threw herself into his arms and Castiel chuckled at Dean's shocked response. Dean hugged her back, however, and laughed a little at her exuberance.

"You're awfully tiny for that personality, Charlie," he joked.

Charlie shrugged. "Hey, I have to make up for it somehow." When she turned to Castiel, she mouthed, " _He's dreamy_." Castiel nodded in agreement.

"And this is Sam, Dean's brother. You'll meet his mate Jessica soon."

Sam got a hug from Charlie too, but he was better prepared for it. "We've actually heard a lot about you, so it's great to finally meet you," Sam said.

Charlie playfully punched Castiel on the arm. "Aw, you've been talking about me, Cassie?"

Castiel laughed and caught Dean's eye, then looked away. "Well, the thing is, Charlie, you're sort of the reason I'm with Dean now."

Charlie grabbed Castiel's hands and looked over at Gilda. "Hey, you ladies do whatever you need to do. Cas and I are going to catch up now."

Castiel barely had a moment to shrug at Dean before Charlie was dragging him off to the kitchen (he had to direct a little when she looked lost), and soon they were sitting at the table with a cup of tea each, and Castiel was telling the whole story to her.

"Well, he's gorgeous," she said after Castiel finished. "You know. For a guy. And he smells like cumin and leather. Good going there!"

Castiel laughed. "He is incredible, and very good to me. He's good to his family." He set his mug down and reached over to Charlie. "How is life in the Fairy Realm? Is it…is it the adventure you were looking for?"

Charlie smiled, her overbite just as cute as he remembered it to be. "It's great, Cas. I'm really happy. I miss you, but I'm really happy."

"Me too," Castiel said. "And I'm happy for you."


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some angst. Definitely need to add some fluff in the next chapter.

Dean rolled over in bed, rubbing his eyes. He checked the clock and groaned, realizing he had slept for five hours instead of his usual four. Of course, they had been awake quite late the night before, chatting and getting to know Gilda and Charlie. The Fairy and her mate were quite impressed with Dean's library, but it wasn't until Jess came home that they really "joined Team Winchester," as Charlie put it.

They loved Jess, of course. Everybody loved Jess. Even Becky grudgingly admitted that Jess was pretty sweet despite the fact that Becky was positively green with envy over her. Neither Gilda nor Charlie cared that Jess and Sam were together, however, so they spent a good portion of their first fifteen minutes with her gushing over how pretty she was, how much she was glowing, reading her palm and tealeaves, and asking about cravings. Just when Dean was worried he was going to start menstruating by association, Gilda turned the conversation to the baby itself.

"This one is going to be powerful," she had said, touching Jess's still flat belly lightly. "A real cursebreaker."

Jess had laughed, her dark eyes glittering a little in the bad lighting of the kitchen. "Curse breaking?" she asked, grabbing a cookie. "I figured he'd go into the law like Sam."

Gilda shrugged. "Perhaps. Forgive me, but…this is the first child of the Seventh Generation, is it not?"

"The Winchesters actually go back a lot longer than seven generations," Dean said, trying to smile, but feeling a bit defensive and knowing it came out in his voice.

"I mean since the Supernatural has been introduced to your family," Gilda said. "Somebody mated with something seven generations ago."

Castiel frowned. "I believe Dean's great grandfather Herschel was six generations ago," he murmured. "But his Angel was male…"

Dean and Castiel had frowned at each other for several moments, both suddenly aware of the fact that Herschel's mate was described as a male called Muriel, and yet…he was Dean's great-great-great-great-great-grandfather.

He and Castiel had both been a bit awkward after that, but when they finally fell into bed sometime after two in the morning, Castiel had snuggled into Dean, pressing his face into his neck, and they'd fallen asleep that way.

Being that he was gay, Dean hadn't really given a lot of thought to children. Plus, he'd practically raised Sam and Adam from the time he was just a kid, and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to do it all over again. Sure, they'd be his kids rather than his brothers and that would make it different, but it really wasn't something that he ever expected to need to talk to a lover about. If Castiel and he could somehow have children, then they'd need to discuss it and see what they both wanted to do.

Dean suddenly found himself fervently hoping that old Grandpa Herschel had left detailed notes about getting Muriel pregnant, knowing full well how incredibly fucked up that was.

He opened his eyes and found himself staring at Castiel's profile. The Angel was lying on his back, eyes closed, hands crossed over his chest. One might think he was dead but for the slight rise and fall of his chest in measured movements.

_What do Angels dream about?_

Castiel turned his head. "I am not dreaming, beloved. I am seeking revelation."

Dean huffed a laugh, still caught off guard when Castiel read his thoughts. "Is that like when Becky tries to convince me she's praying when I catch her taking a catnap at her desk?"

"No, I was actually communicating with the Heavenly Host," Castiel said a bit defensively, but when Dean grabbed him and pulled him close, he added a meek, "I promise," to the end of it.

Dean kissed his forehead and chuckled. "I'm just teasing you, Cas." He glanced at the clock and gave a little groan. It was nearly eight in the morning, too late to do anything other than get up and dressed. "Come on, you're going to be late for work."

Castiel huffed when Dean got out of bed, T-shirt and boxers all sleep rumpled, hair sticking up on one side. "You forget my power," he said darkly, and then before Dean could turn to him, both of them were fully dressed for the day. His mouth even felt minty like he'd brushed his teeth. Dean narrowed his eyes at Castiel's smirk, tugging at the collar of his favorite green flannel.

"Big jerk," he muttered, sparing a glance in the mirror. He looked like he always did from his carefully disheveled hair to his motorcycle boots and the little charm Sammy had given him when they were kids.

Castiel came up behind him and hugged him around the waist. "You look gorgeous," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of Dean's neck.

Dean turned and pulled Castiel to his chest. "I wish you knew how to stop time. Then I could take you back to bed." He leaned down and kissed Castiel softly and lightly, letting his lips play over the Angel's, barely tugging and suckling at him when Sam, the big moose, pounded on the door twice before opening it.

"Hey, you two coming down at some point today?" he complained.

Dean barely looked up from Castiel's face, still holding his mate close, one arm wrapped tight around his waist, the other buried in the curls at the back of Castiel's head. "Maybe."

Sam made a sound between a raspberry and a laugh and closed the door on them.

"Sorry," Dean murmured, stealing another kiss.

"Why are you sorry? I find kissing you to be quite pleasant."

"Because my big stupid brother just interrupted us."

Castiel moved away, but reluctantly, and ran his hand through his hair, as though that would help in some way. Dean had to tamp down a smirk when all it did was make his hair even wilder. "As you mentioned earlier, I do need to go to work. I can fly there, but I would like to eat breakfast with the family first."

They made their way downstairs and sat down to Jessica's fluffy pancakes and Sam's fruit, which Dean found himself eating, but only because Castiel held it up for him. Once they finished breakfast, Dean gave Cas a parting kiss and squeezed his fingers, then watched in awe as, with a fluttering of blurry wings, Castiel disappeared from sight. In the garage, Sam and Jessica were leaving in their cars. He would be home alone for a good portion of the morning, and he had already decided he was going to start emptying out the attic.

He went up the stairs for that purpose, walked through the long dark hallway to the end, and pried open the slim, creaky door that led to the attic. If he and Cas were going to live up there, he'd need to think of a better solution for going inside, because the skinny old door was just creepy. He liked the idea of putting in a spiral staircase at the back of the house, too, so he and Sam and Jess wouldn't be running into each other on their ways to their respective bedrooms. And there might be room for a spiral staircase if they took out that old coat closet by the basement…

The attic was a dusty mess, but then he knew that. Almost everything was in boxes, and thankfully there weren't a lot of boxes, but they were all falling apart from rot and dust, and there was apparently a slight leak in one part over by the window, and the boxes under that area were moldy and disgusting. Dean opened the window and unceremoniously tossed those boxes out into the side yard to take care of later. He then examined the area of the roof and found the weak area, grunting a little when he touched it. Not a huge leak, but enough in the autumn weather to cause a bit of bother. Since it was a clear day, he decided he would take care of the issue that morning rather than waiting. Thankfully, he had extra shingles in the basement, so he went down there, grabbed them, then climbed out the window onto the roof to check the area.

The faulty shingles were warped, probably from the sun that summer. He pulled them off easily, patched up the weak area, and hammered in the new shingles, then went back to the attic to work on the boxes there. His family wasn't rich, so he wasn't necessarily expecting to find hidden treasure, but he did find some of his, Sam's and Adam's old clothes and toys, a box of his mother's old stuff, and a little rocking bassinette that he sort of remembered Adam laying in when he was a baby. The wood had seen better days and the little mattress was rotted, but he had a wild idea that he could fix it up and give it to Sam and Jess for a gift.

The clothes would have to be gone through to see if any were good enough to give away, and he always needed new shop rags for the garage and for cleaning, so he supposed anything that wasn't fit for wearing could be used for that. His mother's clothes, though, he hesitated at, and spying one of her favorite cardigans, experimentally held it to his face.

Tears swam in his eyes that had nothing to do with the dust in the air. It still smelled like her. Sure, it smelled old and abandoned, but he could still get a whiff of the mixture of her perfume and shampoo. A warm feeling settled over his shoulders, like a comforting blanket, and he hugged the cardigan to himself.

There were probably women who could use these clothes. Maybe a shelter for battered women. Maybe someplace that he could send them to, to make the world a little brighter by his mother's old things.

And yet…and yet it felt like he was considering giving her memory away.

Distracted, he felt his phone ring more than he heard it, and reached into his pocket. "Yeah?"

"Hello, Dean."

He let out a shaky, watery breath. "Hey, Cas."

"Are you all right?"

Dean wiped his eyes and explained the box of Mary's clothes to Castiel. His Angel was silent for a few moments, the sound of his breath the only thing keeping Dean company, but it was comforting in its way.

"What if we made a quilt out of her clothes?" Castiel murmured after several minutes. "One of the ladies here at work had a quilt made out of her daughter's old baby clothes. I think she hung it on her wall."

Dean felt something warm flare in his chest, and he smiled in deep gratitude for Castiel's presence in his life. "You're a genius, Cas. I bet there's enough here for me, Adam and Sammy to have a quilt of some sort if we all want it. Can you ask your coworker for the quilter's number?"

"Of course, beloved. I just…I wish I could send you a hug over the phone."

Dean laughed. "Stop it with the chick-flic moments, Cas."

"You're the one in an attic, sobbing into his dead mother's cardigan, Dean. Why don't you download some Joni Mitchell and make it a montage?"

Dean smiled, knowing that Castiel was teasing him, was sensitive to his current dilemma. "Hey, shut your stupid mouth about Joni, asshole.  _Both Sides, Now_  is the greatest song ever written."

"It really is," Castiel agreed. "I have looked at clouds from both sides, Dean, and while I don't know love at all, I know that I love you. Your soul shines so brightly. Even over the phone, I can feel it."

"Save the vows for our wedding, sweetheart," Dean teased back.

They talked for a minute more, but then Castiel said his boss was eyeing him, so Dean went back to work and let Cas do the same.

The Christmas decorations he took down to the basement, and Mary's clothes he brought to the living room so he and his brothers could choose items to have made into quilts, and the cradle he took to his room to show Cas, and hopefully to hide it from Sam and Jess so they would be surprised.

}O{

Lucifer's breath hitched and he squeezed his hands into fists by his sides. Hiding in the shadows was not something he was used to, but when Gabriel exited the shop across the street from where he was standing, he was glad that he wasn't out in the open.

Gabriel, his sweet little brother. He was styling himself as some sort of pagan god, letting his wings atrophy, his halo fade. The elation at seeing him was nearly overshadowed by deep disappointment at what he'd become. When Michael had told him, he hadn't believed it, but seeing it for himself, it was almost too much.

Lucifer moved back into the shadows and leaned against the alley wall, letting his head fall back against the brick.

He remembered when Gabriel was just a fledgling, climbing into trees and jumping out of them before his wings were strong enough to support him.

" _Lucifer! Lucifer, watch!"_

_Lucifer looked up into a rainbow tree to see little Gabriel, his colorful wings flapping uselessly at his back. He was maybe four feet off the ground._

" _I'm watching, little one," Lucifer said mildly._

" _Okay, go!" Gabriel stood up on the branch and jumped down, his wing working and working like nobody's business. "There! I flew!"_

_Lucifer leaned down and lifted Gabriel high above his head. "Yes, you flew!"_

_He tossed his brother into the air a few times, making him giggle._

" _Um, Lucifer, can you fly with me?"_

_Lucifer held Gabriel close and pushed off, hovering about thirty feet in the air. Gabriel clung to him tightly, his tiny body trembling._

" _You're all right, Gabby," Lucifer said softly, pressing a kiss to the fledgling's cheek. "I would never drop you."_

Lucifer slammed his head back against the brick wall of the alley. Well, he hadn't let Gabriel fall, but he'd let him down somehow. Sighing, he pushed off and in an instant, he was back in his apartment.

"Hello, Darling," Balthazar chirped happily, setting the table for dinner. "Cassie is making excellent progress, apparently he flew to work today…and what's wrong with you?" He dropped the plates on the table and moved to Lucifer, taking his face in his hands. "What happened, love?"

Lucifer moved in and wrapped his arms around Balthazar's waist, hugging him tight. "I, uh…I just had a strange day," he said.

Balthazar leaned in and kissed him, then took his hand and led him to the kitchen. "Well, here's to strange days. I've got delicious, free-range grass-fed beef, broccoli, sweet potato, and the best pinot noir you've ever laid your lips on."

Lucifer smiled and hugged his mate from behind, kissing his shoulder just inside the neck of his T-shirt. "It looks fantastic, baby."

Balthazar put his hands over Lucifer's and unwound him from his body. He turned and pushed Lucifer into one of the chairs and sat down in his lap. "All right, I'm going to sit here and feed you like I'm Dean and you're Cas, or…well…and eventually, you're going to tell me what happened."

Lucifer gave a little laugh and accepted the bite of steak that Balthazar held up for him. "I am so not Castiel in this relationship."

"Of course not, Darling. Of course not. Now open up and try this yummy sweet potato and then you just start from the beginning and keep going, okay?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a long time coming. I know it's a short chapter. I'm really sorry about that. I just read that you should post, even if it's a short chapter, and, well, this is what I've got so far. I do have a good portion of the next chapter written, so hopefully it won't be so long until another update.

John Winchester loved his sons. He loved them so much that he agreed to follow Odin for eternity so they wouldn’t have to.

 

His solace was that he would be able to see the future generations of Winchesters bloom and flourish over the centuries. He was happy with that idea. He figured if he couldn’t love them and care for them the way he wanted, then he would at least be able to keep their children safe. He just thought that he’d have to start worrying about that in the future, not now. Not this generation. He figured his sacrifice should have bought Sam, Dean and Adam at least a lifetime of happy endings.

 

“You are my most loyal, are you not, John?” Odin asked. “And it is for this reason that I give you leave to do what you like. Because I know you will return to me.”

 

“Vater, toy not with the human,” Thor said, scowling slightly. His red hair was done in thick braids under his winged helmet, his beard also neatly combed and plaited. They were apparently celebrating tonight. Either that, or Sif had grown tired of her husband’s bedraggled appearance.

 

Next to Thor, one of his goats was happily chewing on an apple core.

 

“My lord Thor,” John said, his voice even and calm, “The Allfather is correct. I am his most trusted servant.”

 

Thor grunted in reply and filled a bowl of mead for his other goat. “I like not what this fairy has done with thy family, John Winchester. I give you my blessing, as the protector of humanity, to do what you must with it.”

 

“Well, I have already given John leave, my son,” Odin proclaimed proudly. “My blood-brother Loki has beseeched me on his behalf, though I was not aware that John and he were intimates.”

 

Odin’s eye was sharply roving over John, and for a moment, the Hunter held his breath. Odin and Loki had a strained relationship. They were contemporaneous gods, and had been close in their youth. Then they had gone down separate paths. Loki’s love of chaos did not mesh well with Odin’s hard-won wisdom and strong sense of kingly duty. If John were perceived to be sympathetic, or Odin-Forbid, _friendly_ with Loki, it would not bode well for John.

 

“No one was more surprised than me when I found that Loki had gone to you on my behalf, my lord,” John told the god, his head bowed in supplication. “I have rarely had occasion to speak with him, though it appears that he owes my eldest son a favor. I believe that is what prompted him to speak on my family’s behalf. Not for me, but for Dean.”

 

The Allfather ruminated this for a moment while Thor continued to feast his goats.

 

“Your son makes deals with Loki?” Odin asked after several minutes of silence. “The Trickster. Lover of Chaos.”

 

“If Loki’s ends are served, Father, he will not double cross. Remember Sleipnir?”   

 

Odin “humphed” deep in his throat. “Ah, yes. Loki has been known to suit his own needs. But even my horse is a backfired plan. Loki tricked a man’s stallion by disguising himself as a mare, and he was left to reap the consequences. If Loki helps the son of Winchester, who will those consequences then fall to? And what will they be?”

 

John tried to keep his blood from running cold. “I have accepted all consequences for my sons,” he reminded Odin.

 

“But you have no bargain with Loki,” Odin reminded him. “Your bargain lies with me. Your son is the one who bargained with the Trickster.”

 

John Winchester wasn’t quite sure what to make of Odin’s speech. The god “saw” far at times. He wished desperately to press him, to insist on knowing what would happen to Dean if he continued in his deal with Loki, but Odin was clearly not going to say a word. He had made enough concessions for John Winchester and his sons. This much he had made clear.

 

}O{

 

Loki was rarely ever surprised. The presence of one Hunter, John Winchester, at his door, however, surprised him. Deeply.

 

“Does Odin know you are here?” he asked, too incredulous for any sort of greeting.

 

John shook his head. “I only wish for a minute, sir.”

 

Loki looked the man up and down. “Oh? Only a minute?” He consulted his watch with one eyebrow raised high.

 

John sighed. “Loki…I do not wish to banter, I mean a figurative minute, not a literal one, as you well know.”

 

Loki smirked and opened his door wide. “Come on in, John. Mi casa es…whatever. What can I do you for?”

 

John stepped in only to the foyer. Apparently he didn’t really wish to stay very long after all. “This deal you made with Dean, Loki. Regarding the killing of Azazel. It’s not going to…I don’t know…curse my family in some way is it?”

 

Loki scoffed. “You read too many Eddas, John. That whole Niebelungd thing got way blown out of proportion.”

 

“You started it by killing Ottr!” John insisted.

 

Gabriel waved him off. “He was asking for it, that big bag of dicks. The Eddas never talk about that!”

John’s look suddenly turned desperate. “Loki, I am sacrificing eternal peace to keep my son’s safe! I can’t risk that this one deal between you and Dean is going to take all that away from me!”

 

“Hey, hey, John-boy,” Loki said, his voice suddenly soft with concern. He had no idea John felt so deeply. He always seemed like more of a hammer than that. “Hey, I didn’t make a deal with Dean!” he put a hand on John’s shoulder and patted him gently. “Dean and I just came to a mutual understanding. Neither of us is giving anything up for the other, no handshake was transacted. Nothing is going to happen to me or Dean because of our understanding. Nothing.”

 

John let out a huge breath and sank against the wall. “Thank goodness.” He stood there for several minutes, letting the wall hold him up, and then he turned to the door. “I’ve already overstayed. I hope Odin won’t notice I have been here.”

 

“He won’t hear it from me, bro,” Loki promised. “But John…there is one way out of your endless torment. You know that, don’t you?”

 

“Then my deal with Odin would be void. He could take my sons.”

 

Loki shook his head. “Not if you die in glorious battle, John. I’m not saying you’re going to. I’m just saying it’s an option.”

 

John gulped. “And my offspring?”

 

“If you were waiting in Valhalla for Ragnarok, technically speaking, you would still be a warrior of Odin. Your deal would still stand.”

 

“I would need to die in battle,” John said.

 

“Yes, but that’s not hard, is it? You battle all day long.”

 

“The most glorious death would be in battle,” John said, nodding. “For Odin, of course.”

 

Loki smiled slowly. “Of course! All for the Allfather.”

 

“Huh,” John hummed. “Thank you, Loki.”

 

Loki winked. “Any time, John. Well, not any time,” he amended. “Uh…how’s about we just never talk again if we can help it?”

 

John nodded. “Agreed.”


	17. Chapter 17

Jess, Castiel, and Michael all insisted on attending the summoning and execution of the fairy Azazel. Sam couldn’t think of it as anything but an execution. He was also pretty sure that if they summoned Azazel, he’d manage to turn it into self-defense, which was why he wanted Jess as far away from him as possible. 

Sam knew that Jess wondered how she, a normal human without a drop of the Supernatural, fit into the family, but that was really how she did it. She was the anchor, the steadfast North Star to the craziness that they all experienced from day to day. She was the breath of fresh air, the sweet North Wind that blew away all the chaff and left only the scent of meadow grass in its wake. 

Sam loved her. He loved her more than his own life, so he told Dean that if he really wanted to help, he’d keep Jess safe. 

Naturally, Dean did exactly that, standing in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest, forcing Jess to peek out over his shoulder as Sam started the summoning. Wordlessly, Adam, Michael and Castiel added themselves to Dean’s ranks, completely blocking Jess from viewing as Sam drew a sigil on the floor in lamb’s blood and John started the incantation. 

“Guys!” she complained. 

“Shall I narrate Sam’s actions for you?” Castiel asked, an amused grin curling his lips. 

Sam might have laughed had Azazel not popped into the human realm just then, snarling and howling, railing against the invisible chains that Sam held him in. 

“What is this, Sammy?” he snarled. “If you wanted to talk, we could have just had a talk!” 

Sam held his ground, though he was very nervous. Even if Azazel was in his thrall, he was still dangerous. “You know I can’t just talk with you anymore, Az.” 

“Why? Because I tried to kill your little bitch and the spawn she’s carrying?” 

Sam worked his jaw, trying to not react. “My mate and our child?” 

“You’re so much more than that, Sam,” he insisted once again, though as always not elaborating beyond that. “I made you special!” 

“You made me a freak!” Sam growled. He actually growled. He needed to hold that back a bit. He was letting his emotions cloud his judgment, one of his weaknesses. 

“There it is, Sam,” Azazel crowed. “There it is! Don’t hold it back! Let it go!” 

“Dude, this ain’t Frozen,” Dean snickered. 

John said, “Son,” and put his hand across Dean’s shoulders just as Azazel turned to Dean and started to advance. 

“Dean Winchester, you are the thorn in my side and have been since day one when Mommy found me feeding Sammy ambrosia.” 

“You tried to kill her!” Dean shot back, his Hunter instincts taking over. He was immediately on the defensive, ready for anything that Azazel might throw at him when suddenly Castiel was there, wings stretched out around him protectively. 

“Angels,” Azazel hissed, and Sam realized he hadn’t noticed Michael and Castiel until just then. “Is this who you’ve been keeping company with, Sammy? No wonder you’ve fallen down this path…domesticity, family, roots!” 

John managed to untangle himself from the cocoon of safety that Castiel had thrown around Dean, and since John was standing in front of Dean at the time, he got caught up in it too. “Azazel, I sacrificed everything to make sure that my sons had a chance at all of those things. You will not nullify my sacrifice, and you will not take Sam’s life from him.” 

Azazel backed away, his arms wide. “So, a little execution, John? Is that what this is? Cold blooded murder between friends?” 

John took out the weapon that Loki had instructed them to make—a hawthorn steak blessed by moonlight water that had been caught in a silver basin during a full moon and all sorts of other requirements that had taken days to accomplish—and stabbed Azazel. 

It could be described as “anticlimactic,” but Sam didn’t really care. Azazel was stabbed in the heart, dying, his yellow eyes fading of their usual light. 

“I could have been so much to you, Sam. If you had just let me, we could have…” he sank to the floor, amethyst blood flowing between his fingers. “We could have…made our own…” he fell forward, “family.” 

“Yeah,” Dean murmured. “Start your own family with a person who doesn’t understand the concept. Everyone wants that.” 

Sam grunted in response, but he was waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop. He was somewhat skeptical about Azazel’s death. He didn’t imagine that someone like him could just be killed that easily. Not that the rituals had been easy, but…

Around him, people moved. Jess tried to kiss him, tried to hug him, but Sam barely returned her touches. John tried, then Adam, and finally Dean. Sam just stared at the body and the pool of amethyst that grew under it. 

“He’s dead,” Gilda promised. She and Charlie had shown up at some point. “I must alert the elders. They’ll have questions.” 

Dean shook Sam’s arm. “Sammy, we need you with us, little brother.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Sam said. 

The Fairies came. Many of them, all gathered around the body, asking questions. 

“He threatened your mate? Is that right?” 

“He’s dead?” Sam asked the Fairy who was questioning him. “He’s really…he can’t hurt us anymore?” 

The Fairy was an older gentleman with white hair and a Santa-like beard. He was a faun, and his hair was so thick that Sam couldn’t see but the tips of his horns, and his legs were a burnished gold color and his hooves were nearly black. 

“It seems that we should sit down,” he said. “I’m Cornelius, by the way.” 

Cornelius led Sam to a chair and handed him a cup of something that warmed him up from the inside and caused him to cough and splutter. Considering that Sam had taken his first drink when he was still in single digits and was currently a bartender, that was saying a lot. 

The drink did something to him, though, forced him out of his stupor and made him pay attention. 

“Sam, your father executed a fairy for your sake, and I just need to know the history.” 

Sam nodded. “I understand, sir. I suppose you need to know how Azazel came into our family.” 

“I know about the Ambrosia. In fact, I can see it on you, Sam. Azazel…well, if we had known, we certainly would have done something about it. I am so sorry that things went this far, Sam. I need to know about the threat to your mate, however.” 

Sam explained all he knew about Azazel’s threat to Jess, how she had almost lost the baby and Castiel had saved her, even at risk to his own life. He told Cornelius about how Azazel had always told Sam he was meant for more, that Azazel was sure he had made Sam what he was. 

“The thing is, I still don’t know what he wanted me to do. I just know…it wasn’t what I’m doing.” 

“Azazel was once a very normal and sane fairy,” Cornelius said. “But he lost his mate when he was very young. I believe that he was convinced that he could make you into a Changeling and channel his lost love into your body.” 

This wasn’t helping Sam’s shock. “I’m a Changeling?” 

“Not entirely. I understand that your mother interrupted Azazel before he could finish the ritual.” 

“Then why was he so obsessed with me?” Sam unconsciously reached out to Jess and pulled her into his lap. “If he failed, why not move on?” 

Cornelius summoned a refill of the drink, and Sam sipped at it. “I believe that for a time, he did. I believe he tried to look for another child to house the soul of his lost love, but that there was something about you he could not leave behind.” 

Sam couldn’t fathom what that could possibly be. “What am I, then? Am I…really touched in some way?” 

“You are touched by Fairy magic. No small feat for a human. I’m still unsure of what this could mean for you, but I believe that in a way, Azazel blessed you. You have continued the Winchester line into the seventh generation, something that perhaps wouldn’t have come about had you not been touched.” 

Sam frowned. He remembered Gilda saying something about the seventh generation, and his child being a curse breaker. What curse? “Do you know who cursed our family? And with what?” 

Cornelius shrugged. “I’m sorry, Sam. The affairs of humans, whose lives are fleeting, tend to not hold our fancy. I know nothing of it. That is your business to understand. I will keep an eye on you, however. We will be sure that you do not have any negative effects of Azazel’s interference.” 

“And my father?” Sam pressed. “He was righteous?” 

“Yes. The kill was righteous. Your father is absolved of guilt in our eyes. He did what was necessary to keep his family safe.” 

Sam let out a deep sigh of relief. 

“Sam, you are going to be fine.” With that, Cornelius turned away and Sam hugged Jess to him.


End file.
